


Phantom Hands on My Soul

by Reyanth



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: BDSM Scene, Fisting, M/M, Perversion of prayer, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8082523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: Tyki Mikk did more to Allen than put a hole in his heart and the exquisite dreams continue to haunt him. Recognizing the pain and confusion in Allen, Lavi sets himself the task of relieving it. Meanwhile, Tyki and Road interpret events a little differently, as Noahs are wont to do.





	1. Chapter 1

Sparks of ecstasy, tiny but too numerous to count, came together to form ripples which swelled to waves spreading outward from the point of origin. Blended with loathing and despair, as well as gut-wrenching, immobilizing fear, the exquisitely blissful sensation took hold sluggishly, making it all the more torturous.

“It’s rather like stroking the female clitoris, you see—oh dear. You might be a bit young for that. Well? Do you know what a clitoris is, boy?”

The thought of simply answering, or else snapping at the villain to shut the fuck up briefly crossed Allen’s mind but the moment he let his guard down to speak, pleasure wracked his lower half and he immediately tensed to keep it at bay. How could he respond when the Noah was touching him like that!?

“Grunting and moaning like that, anyone might think you were suffering… Come now, don’t you want to feel good? Or would you prefer I ripped out your guts?” asked Tyki Mikk, leaning over Allen’s body without applying any of his weight. His breath tickled Allen’s cheek and sent a hot flush through his skin. “Do you want me to stop?” the Noah inquired. Some black twist lurked within his mild tone and a thrill of fear momentarily washed Allen free of desire.

Gritting his teeth, Allen gathered his resolve. “Yes!” he spat, lying with every ounce of his will. The moan that followed barely took on the form of words. “Stop. Please.”

“If you answer my question, I’ll give you what you want.” Whether Tyki Mikk referred to the lie Allen had just spoken or to the obvious wants of his body remained to be seen, but it was the only possible way out that Allen could see. Whatever it took, he would do it, no matter how demeaning. He was in Check, and he had to get free somehow—at all costs.

The gloved finger rubbing sinuously in direct contact with his prostate slowed to a stop, still pressing against the pleasure center and causing Allen’s abdomen to tremble with tension. Phased through his body, if any other part of that hand were to be materialized…

“I know what a clitoris is. My Master has some kind of magic power over women but that doesn’t mean their tastes change just for him…” As the overwhelming pleasure faded from an immediate priority to something less devastating with the stillness of that phantom finger, Allen spoke emotionlessly. “Sometimes, he had me offer sexual favors in exchange for clearing his debts. Actually, I was quite good at it. One time, I left his favorite lover shaking so hard he couldn’t touch her for a week! Serves him right for-ahhh!”

The sadistic rant he had worked his way up to, burning through the languid haze of lust, was brought to an abrupt end as Tyki Mikk once more went to work, doubling the pace of his writhing finger until Allen’s whole body was writhing in response. There was nothing like it—no sensation that could possibly emulate the graze of material against nerves that had never before been touched and weren’t meant to be, not like this.

“Tyki, please!”

The Noah laughed at Allen’s pathetic, slurred words, not even bothering to comment on whether he thought Allen was begging for one kind of release or another—nor the familiarity with which the boy called his enemy’s name. “Rather experienced, aren’t you? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, the way you cheated me out of my clothes in the most rotten game of Poker I’ve ever played... Just for that, I’m going to toy with you until you break, obliterate every last trace of your innocence and then I’ll kill you. This is just the beginning, Allen Walker.”

The skin under Allen’s fingers was like rock and when he ground his hips desperately in search of whatever relief he could find, the rigid ground was unforgiving and brought him fully awake. Eyes wide open, soaked with sweat, and trembling from head to foot, Allen instantly understood that he had woken abruptly from a fitful sleep.

“Oi. You ok?” Lavi questioned sleepily, meeting his gaze from where he lay on his side near Allen in the fire-lit cave.

“Just a nightmare,” Allen answered, curling defensively around his erection and turning his back to his friend.

“It didn’t sound like a nightmare. It sounded like-”

“It was a nightmare!” Allen snarled, whipping upright and spearing Lavi with his gaze.

The silence stretched out long enough for him to realize how much worse his over-reaction made things seem. Lavi was a good friend, though.

“Of course. Nightmares aren’t only about fear… Do you want to talk about it?” asked the Bookman clansman casually, sitting up himself to show that he, too, was wide awake and free to talk.

Allen stared at the mouth of the cave, wondering what he was missing out there in the darkness, waiting to swallow him up. “Have you ever heard of someone’s nightmares stopping just because they talked about it?” he asked, genuinely wondering if it would be worth the humiliation of speaking of it to never have that nightmare again.

Lavi’s answer was a long time in coming and the silence was only broken when the sounds of his approach came to a stop and he flopped down at Allen’s side. “Not if those nightmares are based on something they actually lived through,” he said with regrettable accuracy and with such compassion on offer that Allen shuddered and began to weep silently. The hand he slapped against his face was a lousy shield. Lavi didn’t miss seeing a single teardrop.

The redhead shifted closer and the warmth of his enshrouding arms resonated with the heat still coursing through Allen’s body. To be touched, stroked, inflamed again…

Before he could drown in the temptation, Allen shoved Lavi away. The tension that would have followed was irrelevant as, forgetting his strength, the powerful exorcist sent his friend crashing into the back wall, prompting a cave-in that buried him for half an hour.

The incident snapped Allen out of his dream-induced lust and purged the fear from him. Bursting into action, he filled the night with howls of apology and worked recklessly to remove stone after stone until Lavi was free.

Bruised, scratched, and weakened in overall structural integrity, Lavi was sore and angry but otherwise ok. Even so, Allen insisted on treating his wounds. He felt terrible for being the cause of them. Not that he hadn’t sent any of his fellow exorcists flying before… No, the difference was that he had known exactly what he was doing, and in that moment between Lavi’s arms pressing against his body and flinging the boy away, Allen had judged a little physical discomfort to be the lighter sacrifice.

“Lavi, I’m sorry,” he murmured, tying off the last bandage and settling before the new fire at their relocated position near the mouth of the cave.

The answer was more serious than Allen had expected. “I should have known better than to touch you in that state,” said Lavi, once again piercing through to the heart of the matter. “You need to talk about it first, to get the memory out of your head and into words before the poison soaks in.”

The sense of sorrow that swept through him at Lavi’s words took Allen by surprise. “It’s too late for that,” he explained. “Even if it weren’t… I can’t talk about it. It’s too… personal.”

“It’s not too late,” Lavi argued, with such conviction that it forced Allen to face him and search that sure gaze for an explanation. Slowly, the Bookman in training melted into a soft smile, his eye crinkling happily as he spoke. “You still know how to smile—and adorably at that! As long as you can do that, it’s not too late.”

What did Lavi know? He couldn’t possibly have any idea of the mortification and humiliation that came from knowing how twisted and wanton one was. Enjoying sex with a lover was one thing… enjoying being utterly defiled and debased by one’s enemy… by a Noah who had killed people he cared about… It was disgusting. He was disgusting. How could he possibly tell Lavi that even now, he couldn’t forget the rapture that had been forced upon him and he doubted he would ever be satisfied by anything less for the rest of his life? How could he admit that the man who still reduced him to a quivering mess of uncontrolled desire in dreams and memory was the same Tyki Mikk whose contract with Suman had destroyed half the order and then sentenced the betrayer to a fate worse than death? And there, in the wake of it all, he had succumbed to mind-numbing pleasure.

“You just want to know for curiosity’s sake,” he spoke, his voice cracking around the lump in his throat. “Don’t pretend you actually care what happened or how I feel about it. What good does it do me if you know? I’m the only one with anything to lose.”

“Yes, I’m curious!” crowed Lavi. “But you know what? With most people, I would just shrug it off as their own problem. I wouldn’t bother asking about it or trying to get them to open up when they don’t want to! You know why I’m doing this? Because I care about you. When someone you love has experienced something that causes them pain, the only thing you can do for them is to learn what happened.”

“That’s just selfish!” Allen snapped, stunned by the ferocity of Lavi’s insistence. Why did it matter so damned much to him? “You can’t turn back time or change who I am, so what good is it for me to tell you what I did? The only person who would feel better is you! Except that you won’t. You’ll just… want to be sick. So don’t ask. Don’t make me say it out loud…” By the time his rant ran out of steam, Allen was whispering. He curled in around his knees and buried his face.

“Maybe it is a little selfish. Maybe I want to make myself feel like a good person for helping you—but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to help you. How can I do that if I don’t know what the problem is, or why it happened? I’m asking because I care about you.” At his side once again, Lavi’s kind warmth was as welcome as it was despised. “Don’t freak out. I’m going to hold you,” the Bookman announced, and proceeded to do just that, gently wrapping his arms around Allen. “See? You’re far from broken. You just have to get used to physicality again,” he lectured.

They stayed that way for a while, Allen occasionally shivering—not at Lavi’s touch, but at the thought of the knowledge Lavi meant to pry from him eventually. Little by little, the Bookman maneuvered them both until Allen rested comfortably against a strong chest padded with light muscle. The motion had happened so subtly that he noticed the change with little alarm as Lavi softly kissed the crown of his head. It was well past the right timing for a startled response.

“Hey, Allen… You didn’t seem to be scared or suffering in your dream… You don’t have to tell me the details, but can you tell me why it was a nightmare?”

Tears welled in Allen’s eyes and he felt himself clam up, pressing his cheek to his knee and sealing his lips tightly together. He braced for another attack.

It didn’t come. Comfort, support, and serenity radiated from Lavi and he showed no signs of pushing any further. Eventually Allen relaxed. Soon, he felt grateful enough that it seemed he owed Lavi an explanation of sorts. Just the bare bones.

“I was scared,” he said. “But I wasn’t suffering. I should have been, but I wasn’t.”

“Why should you have been suffering?” asked Lavi, immediately and with a matter-of-fact tone, yet without applying pressure.

“Because I failed. So many people died… Su… Anything but that. I should have let him maim me or kill me, or at least been strong enough not to…”

The tension in Allen’s body closed his throat and contracted his stomach. He couldn’t say another word. Lavi would probably already be able to put some of the pieces together. He’d said too much. How could he have fallen for this trap?

A sturdy hand stroked slowly down his back from shoulder blades to hip, repeating the caress in a soothing cycle. Only when Allen was breathing naturally again, without fighting the stiffness of clenched muscles, did Lavi ask another question.

“What weren’t you strong enough for, Allen? To beat Tyki Mikk? Or to escape him?”

“To resist him,” Allen whispered helplessly. “I should have been strong enough to control my body and my mind. I couldn’t beat him—I couldn’t even fight him. I couldn’t escape. I just had to let him… let him amuse himself, and I should have been strong enough not to give in.”

“You were raped,” Lavi murmured.

There was none of the accusation, none of the anger or pity Allen would have expected. Just a factual statement, spoken softly so as not to raise a fuss.

Allen shook his head. “I can’t call it that,” he moaned. “It’s not rape if you enjoy it.”

“Nonsense,” Lavi told him, calmly but surely. He wrapped an arm about Allen’s waist and pulled him upright, forcing Allen to turn in his embrace and meet the engaging emerald eye that scrutinized him thoroughly enough for two. He brushed Allen’s hair out of his eyes and cradled his head so he couldn’t look away. “Tyki Mikk used your body against your wishes and removed all choice on your part. Whether he immobilized you with pain, pleasure, or physical bonds doesn’t matter. This was something that was done to you. You’re not responsible.”

Allen threw himself onto Lavi, clinging tightly to him and breathing raggedly as those words coursed through him again and again, freeing coiled springs of hatred and self-loathing, and nurturing little buds of forgiveness and acceptance. It was just one facet of this emotional minefield but it was a big one. Labeling Tyki Mikk’s actions for what they were absolved him of the choice, if not the guilt of his responses.

Sooner or later, someone would have drawn this confession out of him. Better Lavi—one of his most trusted partners—than someone like Howard Link. The inspector had been requested to stay back at headquarters for a meeting with Leverrier but Allen’s work could not wait and so he had been sent on with his mission, together with Lavi as both backup and observation. When would he have a chance like this again? To be alone with someone he trusted was beyond luxury these days.

“Lavi, I’m afraid,” he breathed, before he could change his mind. “It’s like he has me hypnotized. What he did to me… It felt so good. Impossibly good. Nothing could ever come close… I’m disgusting for it, and perverted and messed up, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I want him to do it again! That’s why I keep dreaming about it. Lavi, help me!” Desperate, Allen had Lavi in a death grip, choking the boy with his shoulder flush against a long, pale throat. By the time the gasping and sputtering alerted him, he was so brittle from waiting for a response, he almost locked up so tightly he couldn’t move. Once he forced breath through his body and his muscles softened in response, he extricated himself and sat back, leaning away from his fellow exorcist and preparing for the condemnation to come.

The intensity in Lavi’s gaze was not recrimination, but determination. “I won’t let you feel that way. I’ll prove to you right now that you don’t need him, or whatever perverted stunt he pulled on you. I’ll give you something better to dream about.”

Allen almost responded that it was impossible to replicate or surpass what Tyki Mikk had done to him with his power and presence, but Lavi had given him the beginnings of hope and he wanted to believe that a guilt-free experience might relieve some of the remorse.

Before his exploitation by Tyki, he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of sleeping with another man—not even Cross had tried to put him to work in that way—but since that day, he had craved the sensation of being filled—of direct touch to points inside his body that were so unaccustomed to the sensation as to blaze with enthusiasm. If Lavi wanted him, he had no objections at this point.

But did Lavi want him? Was this just about cheering him up?

“I know you’re straight, emotionally,” Lavi said earnestly, reading Allen’s expression with ease. “What Tyki did to you doesn’t change that. So I don’t have any expectations.” Slowly, Lavi leaned toward him, threading his fingers into Allen’s hair and tilting him backward until he was looking up into one beautiful green eye and one black void, and feeling somewhat lost all of a sudden. What did Lavi mean? “But, Allen, you gotta know I’ve been hot for you since we met, so if you want it—if you’re ok with being with a guy and it might help you come to terms with your regrets, I promise this won’t become one of them.”

Allen was prepared for the kiss, and even longing for it a little. When it didn’t come, he opened the eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, and glanced down past the cheek and nose in close proximity, his eyes feasting on the lips halted just a breath away from his. Lavi waited, his good eye trained on Allen’s. It was disconcerting to meet that gaze; so close and so passionate. Waiting. For his consent.

“I never knew,” Allen whispered, wondering why his own voice sounded so wistful. He pulled back far enough so that Lavi could read the conviction in his expression. “You’re my precious friend, and I trust you with my life. I have no problem trusting you with my body.”

Trust. That’s what this was about—not whether Allen was in love with Lavi, horny for him, or simply willing to experiment for the sake of his own peace of mind. It was about whether Allen trusted Lavi to strip him of the only experience he had of being with a man and gift him with a kinder one in return.

Frankly, Allen was shy when romance was involved, but not in matters of the body—not after his upbringing. He hadn’t been attracted to men before now, but now his body had learned that sort of pleasure, he had no objections to engaging in it, as long as…

What had prompted such a violent reaction to Lavi holding him just after he had woken up? If it wasn’t fear for his body…

Shame. Not of lust itself, but of his lust for Tyki Mikk. Perhaps he’d been afraid his thoughts could be read with a touch, or that his wanton desperation would be exposed. This was completely different.

As Lavi’s lips fastened on his and a keen tongue smoothly wormed past his teeth to meet his own in a sensual dance, Allen felt nothing from his partner but acceptance and hope. Lavi was right. He wasn’t broken; just shaken. It was time to improve his footing.

Lavi seemed to recognize that what Allen needed was not talk or romantic sentiments but pure physicality. With the problem identified and consent established, the Bookman wasted no time mapping Allen’s body to memory. With his tongue, he explored the shape, length, and suppleness of Allen’s tongue, later tracing his jaw line, nibbling his ear, and nipping at his collar bone. With his hands, he became acquainted with the planes, ridges, and hollows of Allen’s deceptively slim but well-muscled physique. With his knee, he felt the swell of thigh leading up to another kind of swell that made Allen moan throatily and roll his hips in little friction-building arcs.

All of a sudden, Allen froze mid-gyration, and Lavi extended his arms, pushing himself up so that he could peer down at his subject. Allen was beet red and biting his lip.

Lavi grinned. “I like that you’re so enthusiastic,” he said.

Still beaming, he slid down the smaller exorcist’s body until he could lick the exposed skin of his belly, gently pushing up the hem of the shirt Allen slept in with his tongue. His green eye sparkled with promised mischief and he continued to nibble and lick his way up Allen’s torso, holding eye contact for the whole eternity that took. Very carefully and precisely, he brought his teeth together around Allen’s left nipple and then sucked the bud deeper into his mouth, greeting it with swirls and flicks of his tongue that caused Allen to mewl.

This was a new experience for Allen. He had been bartered goods to the women he had been with, and had strived mainly for their pleasure. Tyki had assaulted him with an intense rapture through emotional control and direct stimulus. This was something else altogether.

Playful and teasing, Lavi was obviously having fun seeking out the triggers and sweet spots strewn across Allen’s skin, and clearly enjoyed the positive reactions he gained. Neither barter, nor struggle for domination, this foreplay was endearing and fun. It made Allen crave the main course all the more.

Honestly, he hadn’t imagined there would be much more to this than just making out a little, getting naked, and pursuing satisfaction. In retrospect, his expectations were rather selfish and insensitive. Just because this was about healing, not emotion, didn’t mean there couldn’t be any play or passion. Besides, this should be for Lavi as much as it was for him.

Having come to this epiphany, Allen threw a smug look down at Lavi who was exploring his belly button far too languidly. Capturing the Bookman between his strong thighs, he applied the basics of wrestling to propel them both into a new position. Quickly moving to pin the Bookman, he let his confidence—and a little of the darkness from his mis-spent youth—control his actions. Taking aim, he crushed his hips ruthlessly against Lavi’s, drinking in the Bookman’s moan as their lips emulated their grinding hips.

A little out of breath, he pulled away and observed his partner, not unimpressed. With his headband having fallen around his neck, Lavi’s thick red hair lay about him like a mane, his eye patch slightly askew under a tangled knot of matted locks. Brushing it out kindly, Allen straightened the eye patch and gazed down upon Lavi. One bemused green eye stared back at him, watching and waiting. Further down were the lips he had just devoured, bright red and wet with use. Leaning on his right elbow, he took a moment to trace the lower lip.

Only belatedly did he realize he was touching a very sensitive part of the face with his weaponized hand. He jumped and began to withdraw but Lavi grabbed his wrist. Allen startled as that pink tongue that often poked fun at him darted out to lick the hollow of his red wrist. In the wake of his tongue, Lavi bit down firmly on the flesh at the base of Allen’s palm and held it between his teeth, challenging with his green gaze.

“D-doesn’t it bother you?” Allen asked, surprised. The skin of that arm was rough, not at all like human skin. It must have felt awful to be touched by that hand.

“Do you like licorice?” Lavi asked.

“What?”

“Your hand. It reminds me of licorice,” Lavi explained, sliding his fingers up Allen’s palm to join their hands together. He held them out to the side as if for both of them to view. “Sweet with the purity of innocence but bitter with the reality of this world. Just like you.”

Even as Lavi spoke his poetic words, Allen took in the bookman’s hair and one jeweled eye beside the hidden scar that had once been home to another jewel. Those words applied to Lavi as much as they did to him.

“Then you’ll just have to eat me all up,” he responded. “Unless I nibble you apart first.”

Grinning acceptance of the challenge Allen hadn’t intended to issue, Lavi hoisted Allen up with an arm about the waist. He levied the smaller exorcist to a dubiously balanced kneel and then stripped off what layers kept him from his dessert.

“I’d say grace, but god would probably burn out my tongue for it,” he quipped, before descending on Allen’s erection as though it were a bundle of licorice to be wrung of every drop of flavor.

Without another thought, Allen grasped at that red hair with his left hand, black nails scratching Lavi’s skull as he convulsed in pleasure. It was different—so different. No guilt, no fear, no sense of having to work for results, just sheer enjoyment. Why had he never done this before? Surely there had been plenty of chances, plenty or women—or men—who would have gladly shared pleasure with him for the joy of it. That was the gift Lavi bestowed upon him; the joy of pleasure.

So why did Allen still crave something else? Something more like he had felt with Tyki.

Trembling, he extricated himself from Lavi and crawled down the Bookman’s body. Thinking that he had to return the favor before he could have a taste of what he really needed, he tugged down comfortably tight pants and ran his hand over the exposed length. Thin, solid, and longer than Allen had imagined, Lavi’s erection felt like a piece of wood in his hand—if wood were warm and pulsing with life.

A strangled cry sounded as he took the head between his lips, and Allen peered up through his lashes to see the Bookman staring wide-eyed at him with a tortured expression. Was he doing it wrong? Hesitantly, he removed his mouth, wiping away saliva and wondering if he had grazed with his teeth.

“Don’t stop,” Lavi gasped. “You just… look so indecent with your mouth around… I can’t even say it. You’re just too…”

Catching on, Allen smirked, realizing that Lavi had his kinks, too, and one of those was a weakness for Allen’s innocent face. So he gave the Bookman exactly what he secretly wished for and smiled up at him, eyes shining with innocence and cheeks puffing with happiness. “Thanks for the meal!” he chimed, before setting to work as he would on any buffet so invitingly set before him.

Lost in the fun of teasing Lavi, and making him squirm and emit very unusual sounds, Allen forgot his hunger for a time. Eventually, though, Lavi’s moans, harsh breathing, and the shudders rippling subtly through his muscles, grew ever-more erotic until Allen felt himself flushed with heat. He sat back and took in the sexy feast that was Lavi, and suddenly felt a pang of longing that took his breath away. To be filled, to be touched, to be driven mad with sensation, to be-

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to lose control and throw you down and have my way with you, so you’d better cool it,” Lavi warned. His tone was so grave and serious that Allen was startled out of his desirous trance.

“You make it sound like-”

“Whatever that damn Noah did to you, I’m going to undo it. Little by little. Strand by strand. Piece by piece. That’s why I won’t give in to temptation and lose myself in you. Got it?” Lavi’s intensity mellowed somewhat with Allen’s shaky nod. “So I need you to be frank with me, and tell me what you want.”

“Tell you?” Allen asked. Lavi nodded. “What I… w-want?” Another stern nod. “As in, specific details and directions, and… and…” What Lavi saw, he couldn’t guess, but what it felt like to Allen was a steam kettle boiling over until clouds of hot air whistled about his head. The sensation passed when he remembered to breathe.

What was he getting flustered over? This was nothing. The things he’d said to some women at his Master’s bidding—before he even truly understood what they’d meant… The things he’d done with them, and with Tyki… The things he wanted Tyki to do with him; things that were all his own fantasy, not found in dreams or memories…

Nothing Lavi had said or done gave Allen any reason to believe he would be judged. On the contrary, every moment since he had awoken had been steeped in open understanding and acceptance. Lavi needed to know, not to judge him, but to help him. What point was there in being shy about it?

Letting out a decisive breath, Allen steeled himself and met Lavi’s direct gaze. “I want you to play with my ass,” he said.

Lavi’s expression never changed. Nor did Allen’s. However, it did turn gradually purple. That had been harder to say than he expected.

“Any specific requests?” Lavi asked. Still no change.

Allen licked his lips. He sat himself down in Lavi’s lap and clasped his wrists about the Bookman’s neck. Maybe it was embarrassing because he was trying to take the sexuality out of it. Maybe what he needed was more sexuality.

“There’s a spot… inside of me,” he said softly, letting his eyes fall on Lavi’s deliciously reddened lips instead of challenging that fierce green light. His eyes fell to the ground before he could say the Noah’s name, however. “Tyki… he…”

All of a sudden, Lavi kissed him softly on the lips—just a sweet, momentary peck as if to cleanse them of the Noah’s name.

“Lavi…”

“Go on.”

“He phased part of his hand through me,” Allen whispered, still unable to meet Lavi’s gaze. “I know it’s not that easy but… if you can… touch me there…”

“Where?”

At last, Allen knew he was being teased when Lavi grasped his chin and forced him to look directly into that green eye. He broke free and buried his face in Lavi’s neck, mumbling a string of words even he couldn’t understand.

“What was that?” Lavi asked, barely containing his laughter.

Huffing in frustration, Allen pulled back, glared at him, and said, “Shove your damn fingers inside me and find that spot and then fuck me until I cum.”

He hadn’t expected the Bookman’s jaw to drop off like that, but then again, he hadn’t expected to respond to the teasing with such profanity, either. Just when he thought he’d ruined everything and killed Lavi’s erection with his temper, the Bookman recovered with spectacular enthusiasm and pinned him to the floor in an instant.

“I don’t know whether to thank Cross Marian or exorcise his mouth out with innocence for teaching you language like that, but I get the idea,” he said. Restraining Allen with one strong forearm bearing down on his waist and shoving two fingers into his mouth, he leaned close to the boy’s ear for a moment. “I’ll give you something to dream about every night for the rest of your life,” he swore.

Allen’s breath hitched at those words. Where had this sexy, beautiful, intense Lavi come from, and why hadn’t Allen noticed him before? Had he really only changed in terms of physical limitations, or was he suddenly capable of falling for another man? Or had he always had that capability?

As he sucked dutifully on the fingers in his mouth and then licked and suckled the third that worked its way in, Allen thought of the men in his life. Putting Tyki and Lavi aside, there weren’t all that many. Howard Link was one. There was a closeness there that didn’t really make sense under the circumstances, unless Allen considered it an intrinsic attraction to someone he had only recently begun to figure out wasn’t actually such a bad guy. Kanda… Allen could admit he was handsome when he wasn’t scowling but he felt a little prickle of fear at the concept of letting Kanda near anything that could be crippled by biting. Krory… The vampiric exorcist was a bit old for him in mannerism as well as in years, but he could appreciate that Krory seemed to have very kissable lips… Komui could be attractive sometimes, but in terms of emotional attachment, Allen felt as though Lenalee were a wall between them that kept him from really getting to know the man and feel anything other than respect or comradeship toward him. Who else? There was always his Master, but…

Allen got the shock of his life when a thrill of interest clenched his groin muscles and he almost choked on Lavi’s fingers, spluttering as they withdrew. Tyki Mikk, Lavi… now General Cross. The Noah really had driven Allen to sheer depravity.

At least he could say he was genuinely happy to share this intimacy with Lavi. There was no need to cloud it with unnecessary thoughts—especially not about other red-haired, one-eyed men. One of those was more than enough.

Indeed, Lavi was proving plenty for Allen to handle. Without hesitation, he reached under Allen and began stroking his ass-hole, encouraging him to relax. He provided distraction with nibbling kisses, even as he began to push a finger inside.

Instinctively, Allen tensed, but this, too, he had experienced at Tyki’s hands, if only in dreams. He breathed deeply, letting his muscles relax with the influx of oxygen. As he breathed out, Lavi’s finger slipped deeper inside of him until it was knuckle-deep past the clenching ring.

As the Bookman concentrated on working another finger in after the first, Allen focused on his breathing, and tried not to get too caught up in the sensation of fingers and nails making contact with his inner walls. He was deeply engrossed in sucking on Lavi’s tongue when the third finger joined the other two and Lavi began to fidget, wriggle, and stretch his fingers, challenging Allen’s anal muscles and trying to make more room.

To Allen’s surprise, the Bookman withdrew, then, leaning over him. He had expected—hoped for—more ass play, longing for the same ecstasy Tyki had introduced him to, even while knowing it was impossible. Perhaps this would be even better.

Lavi said nothing as he guided his erection to Allen’s entrance and pressed inside. He groaned and Allen wondered at the sensation that might come from the tight, protective muscles that caressed Lavi’s cock as he inched deeper every few seconds. He wondered if the Bookman might let him find out some day.

Only at the casualty of that idle thought did he realize he felt very little pain. Perhaps it was the preparation, or the cautious pace, or the lack of girth, but he was able to take half of Lavi with only the minor strain associated with tightness. Relaxing as he blew out a pent-up breath, Allen met Lavi’s gaze.

He felt a shock at the fiery stare that he suddenly realized had been intent on him for some time now. He had been so caught up in thoughts and sensations that he had forgotten to pay attention to his partner. He did so now, as if to make up for the lost time.

Savoring the burn in that one visible eye, he imprinted it in his memory, intending it to overwrite the cold ice in deep brown eyes almost black with darkness. The light sheen of perspiration that caused creamy white skin to glow in the firelight was another stark contrast to his memories of beaded stars glittering against a twilight shade of hide. Those ruby lips were the most delectable difference, though—the shade of strawberries on a white cake, not the blackberry buds that had bit and suckled at him, seeking gasps of pain as often as pleasure. Lavi’s lips were soft, sweet, and dedicated to his every delight.

Now, they glided over his cheeks, over the red marks of his curse, up into his hairline, down the rim of his ear... pausing at his pulse point. Lavi’s tongue flicked out of his mouth to caress the spot and it was a successful enough distraction that Allen forgot to clench up as his hips were lifted and he was pulled along the stony ground and bent into a position that allowed Lavi to delve deeper into his body with less resistance.

His eyes widened as the first stirrings of pleasure began deep within him. He closed his eyes and dedicated himself to the sense of touch as Lavi began to press deeper with every rock back and forth. Allen’s erection twitched against his belly and memories flashed before his eyes, but it was the fire Lavi was stoking within him that demanded his focus and attention.

That slow burn built up inside until the fire caught in his loins and his body tensed and shuddered. Two spurts shot from his rigid erection, rubbing against his belly with every thrust. His toes and fingers tingled and warmth spread through his skin with the release, but it wasn’t enough. There was too much anticipation and want pent up in him.

Lavi’s cock, stroking his walls with smooth silk, was making him feel good in ways he had never imagined, but it was still different from what he remembered. Rough cotton ruthlessly attacking that spot that…

Once more, Lavi tugged at his hips and Allen cried out in surprise as his legs tilted over his head, but Lavi stabilized him, holding him by the waist. With this intensified angle, everything changed. Sparks and slow smoldering fires burst into blazing fireworks. First it was like the striking of a match as Lavi hit the very edge of that bundle of nerves but the next thrust was a direct strike that sent a spasm through Allen, stripping control from him as wave after wave of fiery pleasure assaulted him.

When he came down from the ensuing orgasm, Allen was trembling. He reached up to feel Lavi’s soft, sweaty hair slide through his fingers, and then parted his lips automatically to receive the kiss that descended upon him.

“That was…”

“We’re not done,” Lavi growled into his mouth.

“Huh-ahh!”

The next thing he knew, Allen was bent over on his knees, belly down, butt up, and Lavi’s tongue was buried in his ass, lapping up the white mess he’d left behind. Little thrills shivered through Allen as that tongue rasped and dug and swirled. He was hard again in no time.

Three fingers filled him with little trouble but Allen couldn’t help stiffening when a pinky finger tried to squeeze in. “Shhh,” Lavi whispered. “Trust me. I can’t replicate a caress made possible through a Noah’s power, but I can give you a new experience to rival it.”

Allen’s entire body closed up tight as he thought of Tyki Mikk and that mind-blowing touch. Fear lasted a few more moments, until he felt Lavi’s soft kisses along his spine, undoing the tension vertebrae by vertebrae. He let out an explosion of breath, gasping in relief as the knots in his belly unwound. He let himself fall limp, held up by Lavi’s arms with his head supported on his own folded forearms.

“Do it,” he breathed, letting go of fear as if Lavi’s lips exorcised it from him with their touch.

“You got it.”

Before Allen realized what was happening, Lavi’s thumb slid in with his fingers, and all five knuckles challenged the impossibly widened rings of muscles until they slipped inside. He groaned, as Lavi’s wrist—licked wet?—slid easily against his sphincter while the Bookman’s fist filled his ass.

It took very little exploration for Allen’s arching, writhing reaction to give away the location of his sweet spot, and Lavi went for it without hesitation. Hooking two knuckles, he aimed for the susceptible glands with those while letting the rest of his hand expand to touch as much of Allen as possible. Even while the Bookman held him tight with one arm, his fingers curled about the base of Allen’s cock, squeezing and stroking. Soon, it was all he could do to cup Allen’s length and keep it from being shredded against bare rock as Allen’s hips convulsed in orgasmic contractions and rocked with the force of Lavi’s delving fist.

It was as if Allen melted into liquid along with the jets of semen that shot out of him, covering Lavi’s protective palm and soiling his own belly. He slithered to the ground, his limbs falling any-which-way, and lay there, jerking once as Lavi pulled his fist free.

He only realized his vision had grayed over when it cleared. Suddenly the sound of Lavi’s breath near his ear was deafening, and the scents of sweat and sex were overwhelming. Senses that had been suppressed made themselves known once more.

Allen was too tired to move, but Lavi had him covered. He was rolled, arranged, and pulled against a soft, warm, bandaged chest. His forehead and cheekbones were kissed and his lazy smile admired.

“Lavi…”

“Shhh. No need to talk just now,” said the Bookman.

Allen agreed. For a little while, he just wanted to enjoy the lethargy engulfing him, and the fresh new memory of guilt-free release. He wasn’t even embarrassed. He was too tired to be embarrassed.

“Thank you, Lavi,” he breathed. “I love you.”

For a moment, the words caught against his throat and he wondered what had prompted him to say them. Only belatedly did he realize that the love he spoke of was not necessarily the kind that came with the sort of thing they had just done, but the warmth, care, and concern of deep friendship. He wondered how he could clarify that without hurting Lavi.

“Love you, too,” Lavi mumbled. It was such a carefree tone that Allen immediately understood that he didn’t need to clarify anything. Lavi knew what he meant, and he didn’t hold it against Allen that the meaning they each infused into those words was different.

“Night, Lavi,” Allen muttered through a yawn, burrowing into a comfy shoulder.

Sleep was more illusive than he had expected, though, and the longer he remained awake, the harder it was to fend off memories. Lavi had brought him peace for a time but it was short-lived. For now, he was satiated, but how long would it be before he began to crave that cruelly unrivaled touch that haunted him? Was it just the memory of that touch, or did it have something to do with the person behind it? Allen’s deep affection for Lavi went beyond plain friendship. He could see that now. His inexplicable love for his good-for-nothing, dead-beat Master was another monster altogether. Yet even the discomfort of that reluctant admission could not compare to Allen’s dread at what he now recognized as genuine emotional interest in Tyki Mikk.

“Allen…”

Startled, Allen jumped in Lavi’s arms. Regretting the traitorous path of his thoughts, he feigned border-line sleep and twisted in the Bookman’s arms until Lavi’s chest warmed his back.

“Mmm?” he prompted.

“In the arc… You would have brought Tyki Mikk with us to safety, even after what he did to you. Allen… do you have feelings for him?”

Sometimes, Allen wondered if Lavi might not actually be psychic.

He couldn’t keep a little of the old self-loathing from his voice as he said sharply, “Like you said, he raped me. That’s all.”

“Allen…”

He’d gone too far. He shouldn’t have let Lavi see he was still bothered. Quickly, he acted to clear the awkward atmosphere and reassure Lavi that he was the same cheerful Allen as always.

“Goodnight, Lavi! Tomorrow, let’s hurry on to the point of contact, ok? I want to make sure we save as many lives as possible.”

Allen leaned comfortably into the Bookman and turned his face upward so his cheek rested against Lavi’s skin. Soon after, he drifted into sleep. His unguarded expression was so adorable that Lavi felt his heart clench. A moment later, levity fled as a dark cloud passed over Allen’s features and his sleeping expression turned severe. “Not this time, Shisho. I’ll drink it all for you! Muwahahahaha!” A shudder attacked Lavi’s spine as he wondered what awful episodes of Allen’s slavery to General Cross he had yet to hear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the bizarre little omake at the end of this chapter.

Replaying the same scene over and over wasn’t exactly Tyki’s style. He preferred to improvise and experiment. Instead, he was limited to minor variations that wouldn’t stray too far from Allen’s memories; always watching not to share any new information lest the boy come across the same in the real world and realize his dreams were being invaded. If he worked it out, he was strong enough in will to reject the somnolence of dreams and deny what fantasies Road fed to him.

In short, if Tyki wanted to see Allen, he had to play by the rules. Sometimes those rules drove him from frustration to outright rage.

Bereft of his prey just as things were getting good, he was in a fine rampage among a fake copse of trees with little other figments to smash and tear at. He needed Allen. He needed that kind, white, loving soul to anchor the human in him—the white half of his being.

“Tyki.”

Just the sound of that voice, warm even when drawling, was soothing to the Noah.

“What are you doing?”

Stilling himself mid-swipe, he let the tree intended as victim stand. Slowly, he pushed back his hair, taking a deep breath and composing himself so as not to whirl on Allen with a fearful, inhuman expression of greed and possession.

“The world is my garden… and it needed a little trimming,” he responded, turning slowly and slipping his hands into trouser pockets. “Welcome back, boy, to my garden of sin.”

“It’s good to be back,” Allen responded with a cheerful smile. It turned a little watery but he advanced anyway, despite being hesitant.

Tyki watched and waited, wondering what this new pattern meant. Had Allen realized his dreams of their night together were more real than they should be? Did he still think he was dreaming? Or was there something else going on here?

Step by step, Allen advanced, until he stood before Tyki and slowly raised his hands. Cupping smooth dark skin in his palms, he guided Tyki’s face down to his. Slate-colored eyes slipped behind pale white lids and then their lips touched. So soft, so sweet… as strange as it seemed, this was their first kiss.

Too bad Allen wasn’t there to experience it.

Even as their tongues entwined and their lips brushed gently against one another, and the boy’s teeth ever-so-carefully bit down on Tyki’s plump lower lip, the Noah opened his eyes and observed. Finally, he spoke dispassionately into the kiss.

“Road. What do you think you’re doing?”

Ignoring him, Road proceeded with the kiss, pressing Allen’s body flush against Tyki’s and moaning as he enabled the pretense. Only when she was satisfied did she melt apart from him, still holding his face. It was baby-faced Allen who gazed lovingly up at him, but the sharp sadist in those grey eyes was all Road.

“You didn’t have to go about destroying things. This world isn’t your punching bag,” she scolded, manipulating Allen’s face into a pout that wasn’t adorable in the least. Tyki scowled, but relented when she sighed and her features rose to the surface, supplanting those of Allen. “Making all this can be tiring, you know.”

“Is that why Allen’s gone?” Tyki asked, letting her hang off him as he still had his arms about her for support. “Did you lose the connection?”

“I’m not that weak!” Road snapped, puffing up with indignity. “What do you expect me to do? He’s not sleeping so I can’t connect your dreams.”

Tyki started. “What do you mean he’s not sleeping? He was here earlier, I know it was him.”

When Road averted her gaze like that you knew she was hiding something. The girl would never understand the concept of a poker face. “He woke up…” she muttered.

There was something going on here. “And he’s still awake?” Tyki pressed, aware of the time in Allen’s part of the world and knowing that anyone should have fallen back asleep by now no matter what woke them.

“Well, yeah, it’d be hard to sleep through…”

“Through what?”

Road looked up at him again with wide eyes that could almost seem innocent when she embraced her feelings for her family and let them shine through. “Tyki… What you really enjoy is messing with Allen, right? You’re just having fun… You wouldn’t get mad if he was sleeping with someone else… would you…?”

*

“Tyki’s not coming.”

“Not… What? Road!?”

In moments it all came together. Disbelief permanently suspended, Allen stared at the little Noah in awe, with a strong side of horror mixed in. All this time… He’d thought he was traumatized and messed up… He’d thought he… Tyki…

“I didn’t think he’d mind that you slept with Lavi. He’s really childish, throwing a tantrum over something like that… He’s a little possessive, you see.”

“Lavi? How do you know-”

“I followed you out of the dream and watched. That Bookman really cares about you. It was pretty cold to use him like that. If I’d known you were so worried about the recurring dreams, I would have changed things.”

“It was you all along?”

Road rolled her eyes. “Not me, Tyki. But he’s mad at you. He’s not coming tonight.” Hopping down off the window seat she had been perched on, Road began to walk towards him. As she moved, she grew in height, darkened in skin and hair, and her features shifted to become more masculine. By the time she was standing before Allen, she resembled Tyki Mikk from crown to heel. Even the voice and mannerisms were a perfect representation. “Since it’s my fault… how about I play with you instead, boy...” The Noah leaned in for a kiss. “Just for tonight…”

Allen was still in shock from the revelation that all of his dreams and corresponding guilt had been a ploy of the two Noahs. Never mind watching Road transform into Tyki right before his eyes.

His heart pounded in fury but it was a different kind of agitation that stirred in him as his lips were pried apart by a persuasive tongue. Even knowing that this was Road, even knowing that he had been deceived over and over again, he still wanted Tyki Mikk. His body was as traitorous as ever.

What did it matter? They’d played this game with him almost every night since the level 4’s attack on Home. Not once had it occurred to him to take control of his dream—as he had proven capable of doing after nightmares of Mana-made-akuma began assaulting his sleep. Was it Road’s power making the world feel hyper real that took away his sense of being in a dream and his power over his subconscious? Or was it simply that he hadn’t wanted to change anything? A few days ago, he had insisted to Lavi that it was a nightmare he had woken from, but it hadn’t been fear that woke him. It was excitement.

So he admit he wanted Tyki and he wanted to be Tyki’s plaything in these dreams. What had changed? Only that he knew they weren’t derived entirely from his own imagination. The perversions he had been subjected to were all Tyki’s doing, improvised around the theme of that night in the forest after Suman had fallen.

Shouldn’t Allen feel relieved? He wasn’t as twisted as he had come to believe. It was the Noahs who had done this to him.

But he was twisted, because even now, he let Road’s hands travel under his clothes and hungrily responded to the kiss that tasted of tobacco and berries, the flavor of Tyki Mikk.

One hand skimmed over the bulge in Allen’s pants and squeezed, wringing a moan from him. Suddenly, Road’s tongue froze. She gently extricated herself from the kiss.

“You’re taking this well,” she observed. “To be honest, I kinda expected you to throw a tantrum…”

Allen blinked up at the dark countenance of Tyki, mildly put off by the words and mannerisms that belonged to Road. He tilted his head. It would bother him less if...

“Use your own voice,” he instructed, experimentally. Road began to shift but Allen shook his head. “Just your voice,” he insisted in a sultry tone, saying little but implicating much.

“What are you thinking?” Road asked, her much higher voice floating eerily out of Tyki’s mouth.

A slow, frightening grin of many, many teeth spread across Allen’s face. “Tyki scares the shit out of me,” he confessed. “But this is my chance to get a little revenge…” He vaguely recognized the signs of having tripped over that line between being a good guy and a hero, to being a ruthless and evil human being of selfish desires and few scruples. What could he say? This was how far Tyki had pushed him. To take his revenge on that body without resistance… For he knew Road wouldn’t resist. There was part sadist in her, but there was also a great portion of masochist. She’d let Allen have her way with this body and love it.

Grabbing Road by the lapels, Allen kissed her hard, biting the tongue and lips that belonged to Tyki Mikk. When he pulled away, breathing hard, there was a bead of blood where Allen's tooth had caught near the seam of Tyki’s mouth. He caught her eyes and leaned back in, sensually licking it up. The iron taste spread on his tongue and fueled the iron hardening in his pulsing veins. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.

Road was trembling, her pupils heavily dilated and her scent rife with lust. She shook her head.

“I mind,” announced a rich, lustrous voice that stopped Allen in his tracks and sent a shiver through his core. “Scare the shit out of you, do I, boy?” Suddenly, the other Noah was at his back, one arm barring his chest and reaching up to cup his jaw, the other firmly pinning his lower half back against the full hardness that indicated Tyki’s appreciation of the grabby little scene he had just been treated to. “Too bad Road doesn’t learn by example.”

“T-Tyki…” In moments, Road’s visage appeared before Allen as she was meant to be. The fear in her eyes was not encouraging.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Allen snarled, reacting to the sense of danger that encompassed him.

What a fool he was, just handing himself over to the Noah like this. Caught in Road’s power of dreams and at the mercy of a very real Tyki Mikk, he was as vulnerable as he ever had been.

“New plan. I’ve decided to cum tonight after all—but you won’t be. Obviously, I need to teach you your place... Get lost, Road.”

“What? But I always watch.”

“Not this time. Take it as punishment for stealing my kiss.”

*

Allen was a mess when he finally woke to a breaking dawn. Desperate for release, he briefly scanned his surroundings and then set to jerking off with a vigor at odds with the hour. Moaning loudly as he was finally allowed the relief of orgasm, he sunk bonelessly into his mattress, limp hand still grasping his spent member.

“Walker!? Are you under attack?”

Bursting into the room, Howard Link skidded to a halt in front of Allen’s bed, his ears turning an odd shade of crimson as he stared at the shamelessly non-responsive exorcist.

“Put that thing away!”

“Huuuh? You’re the one who came charging in here,” Allen drawled.

Gazing down his body, he saw the mess he’d made and figured he should clean up for company. “Tim, do you mind?”

“Eeehhhh!?” shrieked Howard Link, still basking in the full glory of Allen’s exposure. "You can't use a golem for... You... Oh my."

Allen could care less. He had bigger problems. Lazily pillowing his head on his arms, he let Timcampy gobble up all traces of his ejaculation and sighed, thinking of the passionate, torturous night he had just passed at the most devious hands of one Tyki Mikk. True to his words, the bastard had driven Allen to the brink again and again and then prevented him from crossing it, again and again and again.

Putting aside the truth behind Allen’s recurring wet dreams, and the voyeurism Road had apparently engaged in through it all, the fact that the Noahs hadn’t made a move to hurt Allen—at least, not mortally—was suspicious in itself. The way Tyki had manipulated him, and Allen’s complete and total submission to the Noah (who was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, which apparently was Allen’s type) was problematic.

It was far too late to freak out now. This had been going on for weeks. He had been in Road and Tyki’s clutches all this time, and as much as he hated to admit it, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was almost baffled that Road hadn’t used this power to wipe out the exorcists long before now. It only hinted further to the secret agenda of the Earl and his allies in letting the Order continue to exist.

That was another problem entirely. Allen’s problem was that he was out of excuses. It may have started as a form of rape, as Lavi had convinced him, and it may have continued in dreams he had no power over… but as of now, Allen was a willing participant. He was terrified of Tyki, but not because of the Noah’s strength or capacity for cruelty; he was terrified because Tyki Mikk was his weakness and they both knew it.

He thought of the moments of sheer passion; Tyki heaving over him, star-studded dark skin shimmering in the candlelight, his expression unguarded as he reached the limit of his endurance and pumped himself dry into Allen, abs crunching, thighs spasming. He thought of the surprising emotion; on spread knees before a mirror with Tyki looming over his shoulder and kissing the seam of innocence to human arm, he had been struck with affection as the Noah announced, “Even this vile fang that you turn against me is a part of you I don’t want to lose to anyone else.” He thought of the dominance; still displayed before the mirror, Allen arched and strained, heaving with breath as Tyki played with the swollen sacks hanging below his jutting erection, whispering a constant string of consequences into Allen’s ear as to what would happen if he blew his load.

“Stop that!” Squealed Link.

Blinking foggily up at the inspector, Allen realized he’d begun stroking himself again in reaction to the memories. He’d completely forgotten the man was there.

“Well, you can either observe and report back to Leverrier, or you can get out of my damn room,” Allen snapped.

He had little patience before breakfast. He had even less thanks to the emotional and sexual exhaustion he was feeling, despite having just woken. Without another word, he closed his eyes and began stroking in earnest. He figured he had at least two more climaxes in him to make up for the long, unfulfilled night of torment.

*

“Maybe I’ll take pity on you. After all, what good is a Bookman in bed? Really, you could have chosen a better lover,” Tyki had murmured, almost caving in as he dragged his hardness in a lazy slide against Allen’s.

“You’d be surprised,” Allen drawled.

In retrospect, the response had been a mistake. While giving him the kind of perfect blowjob usually reserved for idealistic fiction, the Noah had forced Allen to recount his tryst with Lavi.

Embarrassment had passed with the frustration of the first dry orgasm that was forced on him, and Allen had taken a measure of relish in relating Lavi’s skill—particularly that of his fist. He really should have seen Tyki’s revenge for that coming. His eyes popped open impossibly wide at the sudden stimulus to his prostate gland.

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t need me to do that anymore.” Tyki spoke with utter calm, phased himself free of Allen, and then raised himself up off the floor, standing over the stunned exorcist. “After all, you have the Bookman and his magic fist now.”

Frantically, Allen reached after him, falling back to the ground when his cramping legs thwarted his balance. He bit his lips but Tyki simply waited, staring patiently down at him.

Allen thought through the things he could say—that Tyki was better, that he had feelings for Tyki that surpassed what he felt for Lavi, that the things Tyki could do to him and the way he did them were un-equalled.

“I need you,” he whimpered.

Closing his eyes against tears that welled in response to his weakness and depravity, Allen took a deep breath and rode out the wave of guilt and shame. Then he looked up at Tyki again and, this time, without faltering, he said, “I need you.”

“Then you’ll stay away from this Lavi,” Tyki insisted in that dangerous, sexy drawl that was part warning, part fact.

Glaring, Allen shook his head. There was one thing Tyki could never coerce him to do, and that was to abandon his friends. He needed Tyki but Lavi… Lavi needed him.

“Not gonna happen,” he insisted, puffing out his cheeks in defiance.

That was one of the few moments Allen had been truly afraid, as the full fury of Tyki’s dark side surfaced and he fell on Allen so fast that the hand on his throat sent a shock wave down into the floor, cracking it around them.

“We’ll see about that,” he’d hissed.

“Tyki,” choked Allen. Thinking fast, he realized he had to bring back the lighter half before his throat was crushed. Appealing to the part of Tyki that had a weak spot for games, he squirmed his hips and rasped, “If I cum because of your knee down there before I asphyxiate, it’s totally your fault.”

The gamble paid off as Tyki snapped out of the rage and panicked, springing away from Allen. As awareness sank in, he’d buried his face in his palm and begun to laugh. “If he means that much to you, boy, I’ll leave it alone for now… but tonight—and every night—you’re with me. Here, you’ll play by my rules.”

*

Yawning into the mound of bread that conveniently kept him from face-planting into the table, Allen was surprised to notice Kanda also nodding off over his food. Grinning at his luck, he ignored the stack of hotcakes sitting on his right and snagged Kanda’s deliciously gleaming smoked salmon. Before he could drop it down his gullet, a chill of steel at his throat alerted him to his fellow exorcist’s recovery.

“You snooze, you lose,” Allen intoned blandly, still dangling the salmon over his salivating mouth.

“What you’re going to lose, Moyashi, is a whole head’s worth of height,” Kanda retorted, his lips curving into the kind of self-satisfied smile he wore when he thought he was being clever. “I'd say the height would be the greater sacrifice for you than whatever’s between your ears.”

A growl welled up out of Allen’s throat and he clawed the sword away even as he stuffed the fish straight into Kanda’s mouth. “My name… is ALLEN!” he roared.

“Aren’t you going to tell him off or something?” Lavi asked the inspector, whose chin was planted boredly in his palm.

“I’m here to observe, not to sacrifice my life trying to stop pointless fights between children too immature to understand that innocence is not a toy to be brandished in petty scraps,” said Howard Link.

Lenalee’s eyes crinkled up in total innocence as she said, “Judging by the report I overheard you making earlier, you observed quite the eyeful, too!”

Allen froze. He gazed in horror at the cheerfully chewing Lenalee, then slowly turned a dark look upon Link. “You actually reported that?” he asked, threat infusing every nuance of his tone.

“Woah, what? What did you see?” queried Lavi, rather like an over-excited chihuahua. “Tell me, tell me!”

“This un-mannered brat couldn’t even stop jerking himself off long enough to throw a sheet over it before company.”

“Company? COMPANY!? Who’s the jerk who comes barging into someone’s room and then just stares at them when they’re obviously busy!?”

“If you have enough time to be… doing that… then you should put more hours into training, don’t you think!?”

The argument continued at top volume, without any semblance of public decency. Still with hackles raised, Allen gnawed on the muffin that had found its ways into his mouth, still mumbling about trespassers and voyeurs, while a pink-eared Howard Link attempted to maintain his affection of boredom, chin in hand now facing away from the supposed subject of his observation.

Even so, Allen could feel concerned eyes boring silently into him and avoided looking toward Lavi until he was calmer and in control of his temper and emotions.

*

Every morning after breakfast, Link requested a visit to the lavatory. Like a good little suspected traitor, Allen waited patiently outside.

He wriggled like a speared worm as Lavi’s open palm pounded into the wall beside his head.

“You’re still having the dreams?” asked the Bookman seriously.

While Allen usually thrived on messing with people in the midst of “no-nonsense mode,” he wasn’t feeling up to talking his way around Lavi between now and Howard Link’s re-emergence.

“Yes,” Allen confessed simply.

“You’re not going to tell me they’re nightmares?” Lavi pressed, seeming a little surprised.

Blushing, Allen turned his face aside. “They’re not. They never were… If I keep pretending that’s what they are, I’ll die of shame for the effect they have on me.”

When had he gotten so accustomed to speaking plainly with Lavi like this? Even hiding the new truths he had learned overnight, Allen felt freed by the confession. Being able to voice such things to Lavi was an indispensable relief of the burden that had seemed so unshakable.

Briefly, Allen toyed with the thought of telling Lavi everything—the fact that his dreams were under Road’s control and that Tyki Mikk really was accosting him nightly… and that he craved it so much he hadn’t even tried to reject what went on in that reality.

No matter what, these were things he simply couldn’t admit, not even to Lavi. If anyone found out he was actually fraternizing with the enemy in such a fashion, he would be done for. Leverrier would have him gutted and strung up, innocence or no innocence.

“Well, next time, you don’t have to shake it off alone, you know?” Lavi offered, suddenly brushing off the aura of urgency in favor of his friendly nature. He turned sultry for just a moment though, as he leaned close to Allen’s ear and breathed, “We’ll give that inspector an observation that’ll make his ears fall right off.”

With a wink at said inspector, who was blinking at them bemusedly from the bathroom doorway, Lavi took off. Belatedly, Link’s jaw dropped and he gaped at Allen.

“Is there no end to your depravity?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Allen responded happily—on the surface, at least, for the words were all too true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ～OMAKE～  
> -Dedicated to my roommates for the ridiculous conversation overheard during the writing for this chapter.  
> Reyanth: Guys… if condom balloon animals show up in the sex scene I’m writing, it’s your fault.  
> Munchikins: DOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTT  
> Reyanth: Challenge accepted. 
> 
> INNOCENT BALLOON ANIMALS 101  
> Kanda: Welcome to Balloon Animals 101 with Kanda. Today, I’ll teach you how to tie a giraffe.  
> Lenalee: Kanda, I agreed to be your assistant for this, so put a little enthusiasm into it, will you?  
> Kanda: The great thing about balloon animals is that they’re silent and not at all bossy. Now, let’s start by blowing up our materials…  
> Link: I love balloon animals! Allen, Allen can we go watch?  
> Allen: #-_- Do what you want! You’re observing ME, so why do I have to follow you around everywhere? <3 <3 I just wanna stay in bed with Lavi… <3 <3 <3 Oh, fine. We’ll watch Kanda and Lenalee blow hot air into oversized condoms. -.-  
> Link: Is there no end to your depravity? How could you take something as innocent as balloons and call them-  
> Allen: Condoms. See? They’re actually condoms. -.-;  
> Link: C-c-c… How un-mannered! You two, what do you think you’re doing putting your lips on those things? It’s indecent!  
> Allen: LAVI! <3 <3 <3  
> Link: What form of man could even fit in one of those things, anyway? What kind of lewd-  
> Allen: Hey Kanda, wanna see something cool? Go on, Lavi, show them! XD  
> Lavi: Grow, grow, grow, grow, grow!  
> Kanda: Step two is to sheathe the subject in the condom you have just loosened by blowing it up. Lenalee will demonstrate.  
> Lenalee: Stand still, Lavi.  
> Kanda: Step three: Twist, like so.  
> Lavi: ShrinkshrinkshrinkAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  
> Kanda: A perfect giraffe.  
> Allen: T_T Lavi…


	3. Chapter 3

“Do I have to?” groaned a very drunk Kanda.

Of all the exorcists, the last one Allen expected to get sucked into a drinking contest was Kanda. Allen, of course, had seen a quick route to some extra savings just in case his idiot Master’s debt collectors came calling. Thus, he'd taken on the drunk woman with the bad attitude, with an eye to the rather sizable bet slammed down on the table before him.

Lavi had worn that expression of his that lamented what he considered a bad idea while not actually trying to talk him out of much. Such was Allen’s nature that the Bookman didn’t fall for the sweet and innocent act the way a braggardly opponent might, so he settled down to enjoy the show, though his eyes maintained a shadow of worry.

As it turned out, he was right to worry, but not for Allen. Before anyone quite knew what had happened, Kanda stalked over and stole the shot right out of Allen’s hand, gulping it down, slamming it onto the bar, and demanding another.

The only person he succeeded in drinking under the table was himself.

“Link, what on Earth could you have said to him?” questioned Lavi, gazing disconsolately down at the floppy pile of Kanda barely being held up in his arms.

“Me? Are you implying that this is my fault?” fumed Howard Link. “I simply complimented him on his excellent behavior in comparison to a hooligan like Allen. He’s a model exorcist, truly. It’s no surprise (at least, it wasn't until now) that even Director Chang holds him in such high esteem.”

A chuckle floated impishly from the drunk. “Chang the Wang. Direct that.”

Positive that his own expression mirrored the one of horror Lavi turned on him, Allen stammered, “Did he just…?”

Frowning deeply, the inspector announced that they had best return to headquarters right away. That was when things got weird. Well, weirder.

“Do I have to?”

“Of course you-”

“When is that jerk going to crawl back to his own damn hive he’s still there all the time as long as he’s there I can’t even look at Lenalee not that I’d want to and that’s weird enough as it is but what’s really weird is I feel guilty because I like doing that stuff with him well I like him anyway which is the weirdest part but then Lenalee and he likes her too so I dunno… what…”

The barely coherent drunken ramble ended in a splash of puke that repainted Link’s shoes with spectacular precision. The inspector’s twitch of a response amid a statuesque rigidity was worth commending.

“Putting aside… whatever… we just heard,” said Allen, unable to take his eyes off the thoroughly wasted and highly unusual Kanda, “I don’t think we’re going anywhere tonight. We’ll have to rent rooms.”

“Rent rooms? Do you think the Order’s budget is limitless? It’s ridiculous to think of renting out rooms when we’re only an hour from headquarters!”

The expected scold turned shrill when Lavi heaved the half conscious Kanda at Link.

“Have fun carrying him home, then,” he suggested.

An hour later, a tired Link closed the door behind him and sagged against it. His shoes were relatively clean—though they smelled still—and he announced that Kanda was washed, watered, and safely tucked into his bed in the other room they had purchased down the hall.

Completely ignoring the fact that Allen and Lavi were eyeing him sideways with their tongues still entwined and their hands groping adventurously, he went straight for the heart of the matter.

“Was he talking about me?” Link asked in a tired voice that struck Allen as so sad that he took it seriously enough to separate himself from Lavi and stop tormenting the poor fellow with such blatant misconduct.

“Do you have a crush on Lenalee? No? Good.” “I, what? Well, actu… Uh... ”

Lavi had little patience with being interrupted. As a result, his teasing of the inspector was blunt and brutal.

Playing peacekeeper, and feeling sorry for Link, Allen put on an uncomfortable smile. “I think it’s pretty clear who he was talking about,” he said, laughing nervously. “He’s been complaining about Bak-san and the other branch members hanging around ever since headquarters and the Asian branch were linked through the arc.”

Lavi’s eyes went round with the delight of juicy gossip. “You think Director Chang likes Lenalee?”

“Uh…” If Lavi didn’t already know that the Director was all-but stalking Komui’s sister, it would probably be in all of their best interests that he didn’t find out. There was one way to throw him off that scent but Allen couldn’t say for certain it was the safer path. He took it anyway. “More importantly, am I the only one silently freaking out over the fact that Kanda just confessed—Kanda—…KANDA—just confessed that he ‘likes’ Bak-san?”

Link looked thoughtful. It was somewhat of an unexpected reaction. “Let me get this straight… Lenalee has feelings for Director Chang but Director Chang not only has feelings for her but also for Kanda who seems against all logic to also have feelings for him and if I’m not mistaken, they’re also fornicating… no, that can’t be right… Let’s say they’re hooking up-”

“Wait, what? Where do you get the part about Lenalee liking Bak from?” Lavi asked, pouncing on this new information.

Link shrugged. “She told me,” he said offhand. “But she doesn’t know about the hooking up… This changes everything.”

“Ohhhh?” crooned Allen. “Inspector… You almost sound like you approve of Kanda ‘hooking up’ with Bak-san behind Lenalee’s back…”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Link snapped. “I’m here to do a job. Unlike you insatiably horny creatures, I don’t have time to court a lovely lady such as Lenalee—and even if I did, it wouldn’t be appropriate in the workplace! This place needs a reform! First you two are all over each other and now even Kanda? What is it that makes you exorcists so obsessed with sex? Whatever happened to the meaning of the word innocence, anyway? None of you have any! Oh, fine, get on with your disgusting business. I’ll go sleep down the hall.”

A little snaggle-tooth, a forked tail, and a pert pair of horns would not have looked out of place on Allen as he said, “Are you sure you don’t need to stay and ‘observe’?” Still grinning at the inspector, he returned his hands to the very spots on Lavi’s body they had been occupied with when Link barged in. “I might just do terrible things if you aren’t here to keep an eye on me…”

“I can think of nothing more terrible than remaining in this room while you… while you… Goodnight!”

*

When disgust passed it was replaced with fury but soon apathy set in as Link slipped into the room he would share with the blessedly unconscious Kanda. He was at a loss as to how to deal with Walker’s conduct.

Truth be told, Link was extremely uncomfortable with sexual matters. Ever since he’d first walked in on Walker’s masturbation and then discovered what was going on between him and the Bookman, his mental state was in chaos. The two had simply grown more and more shameless.

The part of Link that was a dedicated inspector suggested that perhaps Walker was using Lavi as an excuse to get rid of him. That would make the Bookman an accomplice in whatever dark plot the strange exorcist was involved in.

The part of Link that regretted his inexperience and virginity was a little envious of the ease with which they disported themselves. More than that, though, he was intimately aware of the limited time exorcists were bound by. Any one of them could die on the battlefield on any given day. Was it so strange that Allen and Lavi made the most of their time? Each understanding the other, each caring for the other… It had never gotten in the way of their joint missions. He respected that. Reluctantly.

The part of Link that had been dazzled at first sight of Lenalee and was further impressed by her attitude and abilities was just sad and tired. He wasn’t blind. She said she liked Bak, and he believed it, but she also had a weakness for Allen Walker that gnawed at the hollow pit in Link’s stomach that was his body’s storage area for sheer jealousy.

Lenalee was the only other exorcist aside from naive little Allen who treated him like a person rather than an enemy or a wallflower, and it baffled him. He knew her history. How could she be so kind to him and confide in him, even knowing who he worked for? How could things have gotten so complicated so fast?

Wrinkling his nose as he removed his ruined shoes and tossed them at the wall, Link then sighed and sank onto the bed fully clothed. He reminded himself that there was nothing complicated about it.

Liking Lenalee was one thing. Courting her was out of the question.

Belatedly, Link stripped down to his pants and tried to get comfortable. He really needed to get more rest these days.

Whatever messed up triangle Lenalee, Kanda, and Bak were involved in, it wasn’t Link’s business. Allen and Lavi however… The Order trusted the Bookmen as a neutral party trained to observe without interfering. Regardless, they were interfering plenty in this war. Lavi had played an integral role in the infiltration of the arc, among other battles. Those, Bookman had explained with logic to the satisfaction of the Order. After all, Lavi’s priority was to ensure that he survived so that the knowledge of the Bookmen was not lost with his death. Sometimes that meant fighting. Sometimes that meant protecting the advantage of numbers.

This relationship was different, though. If Lavi was so involved with Allen in a physical sense, there must be some emotion tied to the circumstances, somewhere. Where Allen was concerned, Lavi could no longer be considered neutral.

Why hadn’t Link reported this yet? It was his duty to reveal any and all risk factors. He just… wasn’t sure if Lavi was a risk factor or not. The Order would certainly determine him thus and separate him from Allen for good, but Link was concerned that this might have a negative outcome. For some time, Link had been aware that Allen was suffering nightmares and that these related somehow to the Noah. This, he had reported. What had stayed his tongue in reporting the relationship that had developed was that Allen had seemed to step back from a ledge of sorts since it began. There wasn’t much change in outward conduct, but Link could see it in the boy in those quiet times when they were alone together and Allen had become so used to his presence as to forget he was there. Lavi was good for Allen, and for now, Link chose to believe that Allen was good for the Order. He hoped he was correct.

*

“I wonder how long it’ll take him to figure out that his precious Lenalee is one of these slutty exorcists he’s got such a grudge against,” Lavi noted cheerfully.

“He’s not that bad,” Allen defended. “Besides, Komui will probably have him assassinated, so he won’t be our problem for long.”

Surprised, Lavi pulled away from their lazy fondling and flirting and raised his eyebrows. Leaning back on his arms to put more distance between them, he studied Allen’s face. “That was cold.”

Allen looked confused for a moment then laughed loudly. “Sometimes I forget the strength of my own poker face!” His expression settled into the kind smile Lavi had long since stopped being annoyed by once he realized it was not just a coping method or a mask but simply Allen’s way of maintaining closeness with others when he didn’t know what kind of expression to make. “But seriously, has Komui ever succeeded in doing away with someone against Lenalee’s wishes?”

“What makes you think Lenalee doesn’t wish for that twerp to disappear?” Lavi challenged.

Allen’s features rearranged into a serious look and his eyes took on the far-away blankness of one thinking hard. “If she confided in him something as private as having feelings for Bak-san, even knowing what he is and that he’s under Leverrier’s command, she must really trust him.”

Lavi struggled against a burn in his chest. “Are you jealous?” He was one to talk.

Uncertainty was written all over Allen’s face and was still swimming in his eyes when he met Lavi’s waiting gaze. “I don’t think I am,” he said.

“Huh? Then why the hell are you looking at me like that?” Lavi cried, completely thrown by the unexpected response.

“I like Lenalee a lot. She’s… my best friend.”

The time for libido to rule the room was over and both exorcists settled more comfortably on the bed as Allen began to talk through his epiphany.

“This definitely isn’t how I felt before,” he insisted.

“Before what?”

“Before… that night in the cave and then… what came after. Until all this, I think I was half in love with Lenalee, even thought I didn't really recognize it then. So why do I think of her now and imagine something like a sister?”

“Is that really when your feelings changed?” Lavi asked, knowing full-well that he was opening up a can of worms he’d rather not look at.

After a short silence, Allen shook his head. “No.”

“It started with the dreams.”

“It started with the dreams,” Allen repeated with a sad sigh. “I didn’t just fall into depravity, I fell…” He trailed off.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lavi joked, with a degree of levity that felt completely alien. “Are you saying Tyki Mikk turned you gay?”

“Not just Tyki,” said Allen, stubbornly averting his gaze.

Lavi really wanted to believe that the flushed cheeks and shy response resulted more from the truth of the words and the implication that Lavi had something to do with it than Allen’s shame for what he felt for Tyki. He didn’t believe that, but he wanted to, because ‘something to do with it’ just wasn’t enough for him, not when the rest of the credit belonged to an enemy who had tortured Allen to despair. It wasn’t jealousy that burned in him this time—it was determination to protect Allen from someone who was clearly dangerous.

“Has it occurred to you,” Lavi ventured, deciding it was time to sprinkle a little humor over the gloom, “That maybe Lenalee lied to Link?”

“Lied? Why would she lie?”

“Maybe she’s just stirring up trouble—or maybe it’s petty retaliation against Leverrier. Or, maybe, he asked her about you… and she told him she likes Bak to throw him off course.”

“Or…” Blatantly ignoring Lavi’s bait intended to bring them back to the subject of Lenalee and the fact that they had surely been on course to become the Order’s most popular couple before long, Allen took the conversation in a brand new direction to which Lavi’s thoughts could barely keep up. “What if Lenalee knew about Bak-san and Kanda and was trying to protect them by drawing a line between her and the Director?”

“That… also sounds legitimate,” Lavi admitted. He sighed, suddenly aware that he wouldn’t be getting laid for a while tonight, if at all.

*

If Link was jumpy at breakfast, it was only to be expected. If he turned maroon at the sight of an inexplicably cheerful (for him) Kanda, it was only natural. If he was ruder to the three exorcists than was warranted, it was completely justified.

Never in all of his wildest fantasies, had Link ever thought his first kiss—and so much more—would be stolen by a man. The fact that Kanda didn’t remember a thing only intensified the humiliation.

It was embarrassing enough that someone with his training had awoken already in the thrall of another—and that other was still so heavily under the influence he was as subtle as a bear and as clumsy as a cow. The excuse that stress was catching up with Link couldn’t even begin to cover his body’s reaction to the hand down his pants or the tongue rooting around in his mouth even as he fumbled his way to consciousness.

“I’ve never told you,” Kanda breathed, licking Link’s face and then whispering into his ear. “Just because I can’t get hard doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

The slurred words, and the knowledge of who they were meant for froze Link up with indecision. For some reason, he felt it would be cruel to point out to Kanda that he wasn’t Director Chang when the exorcist was probably speaking from the heart for the first time in his life. The very personal admission of his impotency was spoken with familiarity and trust. How cruel would it have been for Link to betray that trust? Never mind that it was trust meant for another man. For Kanda, a Second who had been betrayed and almost executed by the very Order that gave him life and purpose, to exhibit such trust and even affection…

“I always let you think it’s obligation that makes me do this, but the truth is, I want to. For you. Someday, you’re going to find a way around Komui and just maybe Lenalee won’t kick you in the face. Maybe she’ll see what I see in you. But she’ll never feel what I feel. Without you, I wouldn’t exist.”

There was a strange spell in playing recipient to words meant for someone else. In that moment, a part of Link was indeed Bak Chang. If he believed that, then it wasn’t as terrifying to feel so good as Kanda stroked him and kissed a trail down his belly.

He thought of Lenalee, and how he knew she would never do this to him, and how much he secretly wanted it. He thought of Allen and Lavi, living for the moment in an uncertain war-time reality. He closed his eyes and thought of the disciplined, exquisite warrior he admired with strong muscles, pale skin, and a mane of blue fire in the moonlight.

As the tip of his penis slid easily into Kanda’s mouth, his back arched and he buried one hand in his own hair, mussing up the immaculate braid that hadn’t even been disturbed by sleep.

He was so overwhelmed by the strange situation and the sensations he was unaccustomed to that he reached his climax before Kanda’s clumsy effort really took off. Slack-mouthed and drooling, it was probably the worst oral sex ever performed, but to Link it was an eye-opening view into the world of human touch and the ability to soothe one another through words and pursuit of pleasure.

Satisfied with himself, Kanda muttered a few insults and then lay down to rest with his head on Link’s belly and the rest of him curled around the inspector’s legs. Having come to with the dawn, long before Kanda, Link had extricated himself, washed away his shame, and then made his way down to the common room to pass the time until the exorcists rose or until it became fair time to wake them.

He was surprised at how early all three of them joined him—especially Kanda who had been beyond incapacitation the previous night. Was it due to his constitution as a Second that he seemed as healthy—and, indeed, as happy—as they had ever seen him?


	4. Chapter 4

Lenalee might be the light of Bak’s life, and For might be the hearth and home to which he would always return… but there was only one person who could quell the darkness within him; the memories of his own uselessness and the hereditary sin he shouldered. Only Yu—whose existence was the sole positive outcome of Bak’s family legacy at the order—could calm his soul when it all got too much.

“Idiot. You know I’m not made that way,” scolded Yu as Bak instinctively sought to arouse his partner through touch and teasing kisses.

“I know,” he said, bending to suckle Yu’s nipple, regardless.

“I don’t find any enjoyment in this,” Yu reminded him with the same coldness with which he might insult one of his exorcist peers.

“I know,” Bak sighed, before rallying and smiling weakly up at the scowling exorcist.

“Pervert.”

The reprimand didn’t mean much as the swordsman fell straight to his knees and began to remove the cloth that kept him from his task.

“Yu…”

It didn’t matter how coldly Yu spoke to him or how little passion he showed, his skillful tongue, lips, and throat could reduce Bak to an incomprehensible imbecile within moments. His head lolling back on his neck, Bak drowned in exquisite sensation at Yu’s mercy.

Once, he had asked why Yu indulged his selfish need for intimacy between them. He hadn’t received anything close to a direct answer then, but little by little Yu had opened up to him through one excuse or another, until he had learned the exorcist’s true feelings. Bak and Marie were all he had, and in his eyes, he owed them. After his and Alma’s spectacularly failed escape, it had been Bak and Marie who had cared for Yu, and they who had survived the massacre alongside him. That he had later saved Marie’s life in return and that Bak had brought him back into the Order’s clutches at the time, even knowing some of what had been done to him, didn’t seem to factor into Yu’s assessment of their bonds.

That he felt a debt to and cared for Bak in his own way was enough reason for Yu to share his body and the comfort that lay in it. That he was a perfectionist who insisted on excelling at everything and anything—especially when a comparison might be made—was impetus for him to have gotten very, very good at inciting the pleasure he himself could not feel.

He excelled at doing so now, his throat working around Bak’s length with such ease that his lips and tongue were able to provide independent stimulation. The director watched, breaking out in a light sweat as Yu lined one slight, elegant finger up with the length poking into his mouth and slipped it inside, slicking it up before sliding out again and reaching around to tease Bak’s anus.

Wobbling knees gave him away and Kanda pushed him onto the bed, kneeling on the floor himself and pulling Bak’s knees around his neck. Trembling—his abdominal muscles seized up tight as he balanced half off the bed with Yu’s mouth sliding up and down on his cock and the exorcist’s finger wiggling into his body—Bak had to admit a weakness for being shoved around like that.

Knowing his body and its vices well, Kanda’s rested his finger at the hilt and instead of plunging it back and forth, he persistently stroked the same patch of inner flesh with a loose and gentle motion even as his throat muscles expanded around the head of Bak’s cock once more.

The director’s balls drew up slowly and then released with force. He groaned around the knuckles stuffed between his teeth and his hips craned up of their own volition as tingling bliss rippled through his lower half. As it faded, he unclenched his teeth and his hand fell to the mattress. “K-Kanda,” he whispered.

When the boy loomed over him looking mad, all he could do was stare up in confusion. He wanted to laugh at the way Yu’s nose wrinkled as he licked about the inside of his own mouth and worked his saliva glands to wash down any remaining coating or after-taste, glaring all the while.

“What?” he asked eventually.

Yu’s hands hit the mattress to either side of his head and the boy’s glare sparked. “Yu,” he said.

“What?” Bak repeated, completely lost now.

“When you came, you called me Kanda,” he snarled. “I want you to call me Yu.”

Confusion transformed into incredulity. “You’ve changed,” he observed, stunned that Yu would care about such a minor detail and even explain the problem in a full sentence and then outline how he expected it to be rectified. He knew it was premature to feel a glow of warmth at the notion that Yu actually cared what Bak called him, but that was the way of feelings. They didn’t wait for a green light.

Completely misinterpreting that statement, Yu expelled a noise of displeasure from between his teeth and turned away, plunking himself down on the edge of the bed and starting to fix the clothing Bak had messed up with his futile foreplay. “If it’s no good just say so and I’ll figure out how to do it better,” he said.

“Not that!” Bak argued, sliding back until the bed was firmly under him and propelling himself up. He was still a little tight about the groin and his muscles twitched at the sudden movement. “That’s… very good,” he gushed in earnest, embarrassed at just how good, as his body continued to evidence. “I mean you, as a person. You’ve changed since you came back from the arc.”

Another noise of denial. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.” Cautiously, so as not to startle his touchy partner, Bak placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re more open,” he pointed out, “More interested in other people.”

Yu shrugged, still refusing to look at him but no longer fiddling with his clothes. “Lots of things have changed since then.”

“Like what?” Bak asked, jumping on the opportunity to draw more conversation from the reclusive exorcist.

“Allen and Lavi?”

The muttered question didn’t register as an answer at first.

“What’s that?”

“They’re sleeping together. No, it’s more than that. They’re very close,” Yu expounded, to Bak’s surprise.

He was curious as to how Yu had learned of such a relationship and what it might mean but right now he was more interested in the boy seated awkwardly beside him, actually willingly engaging in conversation about his colleagues that had nothing to do with work as far as Bak could tell.

“And what do you think about that?” he prompted.

“That stupid bean sprout’s always lousing about with that idiotic grin on his face but these days… he smiles less.” After the initial explosion that brought a smile to Bak’s lips at the characteristic insults and very accurate description, Yu’s tone became puzzled. “I don’t know why, but I think that’s a good thing. Lavi’s good for him.”

Suddenly caring very little whether Yu approved his touch or not, Bak wound his arms about the boy’s waist and drew him close. “Does it bother you that they’re together?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“No. Why should it…? Moron!” Yu rounded on him, shoving him into the mattress with fireworks in those midnight eyes. “As if I’d be interested in that under-grown, dimwitted sapling! Or his dimwit boyfriend.”

Going with the flow, Bak stayed down, but propped his head up on his hand, assuming a more relaxed posture now that his fears were relieved. “Then why bring them up?” he pressed.

“Because…”

“Because?”

“Because it’s new,” Yu muttered, feeling out the truth of the words on his tongue. “And it makes me wish…”

Bak’s chest constricted. “What?”

“It makes me wish I could be what you need.”

He saw the impetus for movement and the application of restraint. Relaxing back down to the mattress, Bak reached out to thread his fingers into Yu’s hair and then curled them about the boy’s neck, pulling that handsome, angular face down to his. “Now who’s the moron?” he murmured, kissing Yu’s lips with a vulnerable softness he rarely allowed to be exposed. “Not everything has to be about sex, Yu,” he finished.

“Then what-”

Guiding Yu’s head to his chest and holding it there until the boy relaxed and curled up against him, Bak closed his eyes with a deep breath of resignation for the complications they had been set. “Take a good look at Allen and Lavi and then come back to me and tell me it’s only sex that makes them good for each other,” he said, determining to do so himself if the opportunity arose.

Before he could fully relax, Yu spoke out suddenly, surprising him again and springing his eyes open to take in the cracked concrete of the ceiling.

“Bak.”

“Hmmm?”

“Have you ever slept with For?”

“Yes.”

“In the form of someone else?”

“…Yes.”

“Me?”

“No, Yu. Never.”

Closing his eyes in sadness, Bak bit down the explanation he wanted to make and knew would only make things worse. For could parade as Yu and simulate for Bak an experience in which the young exorcist was capable of feeling the same ecstasy as he, in which they could couple the way others did and strive for mutual gratification.

Bak wanted that. He just didn’t want it without Yu experiencing it together with him. There would be no meaning in such a masquerade.

*

When Bak returned to the Asian branch, he was fully expecting to be ambushed by For, who was aware of everything he said and did though she could only materialize of her own volition in this place. What he wasn’t expecting was to find her in the form of Kanda Yu.

“He has a point,” she pointed out ruthlessly. “Wouldn’t it be better this way?” she reached after him, hanging on his arm as he swept past. “It’s not right to-”

“What’s not right,” Bak seethed, rounding on her, “Is that he will never know what it means to consummate an emotional connection with another human being. I can’t make that happen for him, so I won’t play pretend all by myself.”

“I can make it feel real,” For breathed, sounding so unlike Yu while wearing his face that Bak wanted to slap her.

She read the response in his expression and withdrew, letting go of his arm. Before his eyes, she transformed into Lenalee. “Why the girl, and not him?” she asked. “What’s so different about screwing this?” She indicated the false form she wore, with whom Bak had lain on many a cold, no-longer-lonely night.

Practice. Training himself to enjoy being with a woman who he cared about but didn’t necessarily desire. If he grew accustomed enough to finding pleasure in Lenalee’s body, he could make a move on her someday without the fear that he wouldn’t be able to follow through.

“Love,” he said—knowing full well that For knew him well enough to puzzle over the answer until she came to the right conclusion and hating her for it.

His eyes roamed familiarly over Lenalee’s form and as he registered once more how perfect the transformation was, the wheels began to turn in his mind. “For, I have a mission for you.”

“No carrots,” she said with a scowl. “Last time-”

“That was your idea! Who asked for…” Gritting his teeth, Bak set aside his ire at the guardian deity and focused on the niggling interest he had formed that he was sure had greater significance than he had yet gleaned. “Allen walker and the Bookman,” he said, knowing she would understand the reference from his earlier conversation with Yu. “I want to know more about what’s going on between them.”

“Now you’re jealous over Allen? I knew you had a thing for-”

“Just do it, For,” Bak snapped.

“You’re not jealous,” she stated. “Why, then?”

Bak scoured his own thoughts, wondering himself at the origin of the niggling and what exactly it was that bothered him. He thought of Lavi and what aspects of the Bookman might be attractive to Allen and how they might have come together… and then suddenly it hit him. “When Allen was here, I spent a great deal of time observing and getting to know him, as did we all. Did you, for even a moment, consider that he might be gay or even mildly attracted to other males?”

Reverting to her own form as the significance of that struck home, For shook her head, but she frowned and raised her fist to her lips, puzzling it over. “You’re probably right about that… but why does it matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Bak responded, “But there’s no harm in finding out how and why Allen’s preferences changed so completely.”

A cheeky laugh alerted Bak moments before Allen-Who-Was-For wormed into his arms and then looked up with irresistible, innocent eyes. “Bak-san, if I’d known I liked men when I was trapped here at your mercy, would you have taught me all about the ways men make love?”

He snorted.

Allen’s features darkened, the way they sometimes did shortly after Cross Marian came up in conversation. “Bak-san, I’ve got an itch that needs scratching and you look like you know how to give a fella some relief.”

“Really, now-”

It was the look of determination mingled with just a touch of pride and a surface-thin layer of uncertainty that undid him when For fell to her knees and reached for his belt-buckle. “Bak-san, let me take care of you this time.”

By the time his cock was sucked up like an over-sized candy and moments later licked all over like a pulsing popsicle, Bak had completely given over to believing it was Allen’s tongue, lips, and teeth that were riling him up toward a second orgasm. He’d had his fill of blow-jobs for tonight, though. He wanted something more.

“Go to my bed,” he ordered, pulling up his pants and cramming his aching erection in with every understanding that he would be busted the second anyone glanced down. Fixing up the fall of his shirt, he grabbed a clipboard and held it before him, hurrying to his quarters and wondering what Yu would say about this latest show of depravity.

*

Kanda lay awake long after Bak left him; aware that he wasn’t sleeping but allowing him the pretense. He wasn’t thinking about anything that had happened or been spoken between them. He wasn’t dwelling on Bak at all.

It was Allen and Lavi who occupied his mind. They seemed so wrong for each other in so many ways. He didn’t like either of them—Not even a little bit!—but they were comrades in arms and he had come to know them over time whether he liked it or not. They were like Lenalee, a secure and somehow comforting presence in his life without intruding on his conscious feelings.

Instinctively, he understood that their relationship wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Somehow he intuited that it was based on something not unlike what Bak sought from him—physical gratification of emotional needs. He couldn’t say that that was wrong in and of itself, per se but… something didn’t feel right about Allen and Lavi.

It wasn’t the Bookman. His stupid cyclops eye shined with real affection whenever he looked at Allen. It wasn’t even that the beansprout didn’t mirror that look because sometimes he did, just… not often. Sometimes, he looked at Lavi without even seeing him. In the mornings, he was most prone to that pointless false smile Kanda loathed. Only after some time in Lavi’s presence did he act more genuinely.

That Lavi was good for Allen was clear… but Kanda couldn’t help observing that Allen might not be so good for Lavi.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes for the warmth against tired lids. What did he care? They weren’t his problem.

But Bak had asked him to observe their behavior and glean something from it that supposedly had nothing to do with sex, so he would, just to prove Bak wrong. Stupid Bak.

Mr. Not-Everything-Is-About-Sex was probably getting it on with For right now, only Kanda was willing to bet she appeared to him as Lenalee and did all manner of dirty things for his perverse…

“Fuck.”

Kanda could feel the wet squish of tears against his forearm and wiped them away before he had to acknowledge that he was actually crying over that twisted moron. He rolled onto his other side and pulled his knees in, curling about them for comfort in a way he only did when he remembered… Alma…

For the first time, he realized that it wasn’t Bak who needed him. He was the one who feared losing himself without the twin reminder that the past was real but so was the present, and he needed Bak in his future. For the first time, he understood…

But it wasn’t the first time, was it? He’d told Bak before that he…

When had he said that?

Slowly, Kanda uncurled as he chased down foggy memories he wasn’t entirely sure were real. When had he said those things? How could he have let his guard down like that? He was never even that honest with himself. How could he say those things out loud to stupid Bak of all peop…

Not to Bak. The plait that had tickled his chin, he remembered that. Bak’s hair wasn’t that long…

All at once, it became clear. Lavi had hardly shut up about the incident. Drinking himself stupid and forcing them to stay at the inn only an hour from home… He’d woken in a miserable state, sprawled over the bed that smelled like another man and half naked.

He remembered now. He’d confessed humiliating things to the man he’d drunkenly mistaken for Bak thanks to a sighting of blond bangs in the moon-streaked darkness. He’d even sucked the man off to a quick orgasm and been proud of himself for doing just as well incapacitated as when he was sober and able to employ all of his hard-earned skill.

Howard Link had taken utter advantage of his drunken state and thought he could get away with it.

A score of strategies came to mind within moments but Kanda lay there, staring up at the ugly white concrete ceiling and contemplating the merits of holding on to this information for now, until he could put it to better use of some kind. Somewhere in his subconscious lurked the concept of Lenalee and her terror of Leverrier, or Bak and the atrocities he had lived through in his youth thanks to his lineage and obligated allegiance to the Order. All Kanda acknowledged was that he had leverage that would do him no personal good at present but might be useful in a pinch.

He closed his eyes, remembered Bak’s ridiculous accusation that he had changed, grunted what he thought of that, and then sank into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ～OMAKE～  
> Reyanth: I write too much porn.  
> Munchikins: So write some plot.  
> Reyanth: Plot, eh…? Like, one character sleeping with another character because the character he was sleeping with first slept with another dude… No! A CHICK! The plot thickens!  
> Munchikins: …That’s still just porn.  
> Reyanth: …But now it’s porn that pretends it has a plot so I feel slightly more cultured.  
> Munchikins: Some day your prince will come… and you’ll be too busy writing stories about him defiling the cleric.  
> Reyanth: The cleric is a former necrom… Oh my god, you’re right. I’m terrible. We’ll stick with… a former… fertility god! But now he’s super chaste! The plot will be about seducing him back to the fold of the hopelessly perverted! This is brilliant! Thanks, guys!
> 
>  
> 
> PLAYING DRESSUPS 101  
> Bak: Welcome to Playing Dressups 101 with Bak. Today, we’ll go over the necessities for a good disguise.  
> Bak: For! That’s my line! How dare you emulate me?  
> Bak: Shut up, BakaBak. We both know this is the fantasy you never knew you wanted.  
> Bak: That’s not true, I’ve always known… Hey! Put that shirt back on this instant!  
> Bak: Why Director, I didn’t know you were packing. Better whip that gun out and disengage it before someone gets hurt.  
> Bak: …Does my voice always sound that sexy?  
> Bak: …Yep.  
> Bak: For… We’re in the middle of a lesson.  
> Bak: Don’t forget the carrots, kids! Fresh props are a must!  
> Bak: …What do you think you’re doing with that carrot? I’m not built for that monstrous-  
> Bak: Well then, you’d better help me prep the kitchen, so to speak.  
> Bak: Has anyone ever told you you’re an utter pervert?  
> Bak: It might have come up. Why don’t you tell me more though? I love it when I talk dirty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags have been added as this story has taken on a lot of themes that might be triggers.
> 
> Heads up: Some blatant BDSM coming up in this chapter.

A shockingly powerful yawn cracked Allen’s jaw and he gratefully sat down to a table full of food. When he had agreed to participate in a series of innocence activation tests at the Asian Branch, he hadn’t thought it would be so tedious and tiring. Unlike the endless days of training he had gone through with For while trying to reclaim his innocence, there was no adrenaline; no thrill of the fight to keep him going. These tests included an endurance study and he had mindlessly activated and deactivated his innocence over and over for about ten hours straight.

At first he had chatted cheerfully with the scientists; disregarding Link’s grumpy expression as to just how professional he thought that was. However, as time dragged on, he ran out of topics of conversation and his tortu… examiners also began to grow bored and sleepy.

The only one who hadn’t given in to drowsiness was Howard Link, who had stood straight and tall for the majority of the whole ten hours. Allen suspected he had nodded off in the bathroom at one point.

“Director Chang,” he said curtly as Allen inhaled a crisp Caesar salad, “I must insist that we return to headquarters. It is hardly a long journey through the ark.”

“That seems awfully selfish of you,” Bak Chang responded in a drawl that dripped with judgment. “Poor Allen is positively wilting over his stew.”

“Then perhaps you would do best to keep in mind that our exorcists must be kept in peak fighting condition. What purpose these tests could possibly-”

“Inspector Link, need I remind you that your job is to observe and report, not to spout opinions on the workings of this establishment.”

“Oh, I shall be reporting all that I have observed, and I shall report my opinion as well, _Director_ Chang.”

“By all means, you are welcome to use the phone in my office to do so while Allen here takes a well-deserved rest in the quarters we have prepared.”

Allen turned his face to receive the skewer of chicken pieces and capsicum Rohfa held out for him with a beaming smile in the background. As he chewed, he was struck with the urge to yawn again and tried to cover his mouth while doing so.

“That inspector! He really is selfish! What does he think he’ll find, following you around like this, anyway? He’s practically a stalker!” the girl complained under her breath.

“Oh, sure. _He’s_ the stalker,” scoffed Rikei, tossing an olive toward Allen who skillfully caught it in his mouth. “Don’t think I didn’t see your notes, today. Hearts everywhere. I tell you, Allen, you’d better watch out for this one.”

“No, _you_ had better watch out!” burst Link as he rounded on the four of them, causing Allen to dodge another olive as he looked up at Link in reflexive surprise. “And you!” he added, pointing at Shifu. “But _you_ ,” he said, his finger skimming sideways to land on Rohfa, “Are in for a sad and lonely shock when you realize that, pretty and charming as you are, this delinquent has been hopelessly deranged by that redheaded lout!”

Link fumed. Silence reigned. Allen reached for a slice of garlic bread, brought it close to his mouth, and then paused, turned just slightly to Rohfa to say, “I think he just called you pretty and charming,” before crunching into the toast that was deliciously slathered with garlic butter and herbs.

Link spluttered, and then did the unthinkable. He stalked off, abandoning his post.

“He has a thing for Asian girls, you know,” Allen commented with a wink.

The chicken drumstick that was halfway to his mouth slowly lowered back to the plate then and he blinked sleepily.

“Rikei, Rohfa, get Allen to his room to rest before that buffoon returns. Shifu, if you would be so kind as to fetch Lavi, we can begin the next round of tests.”

*

_“I never thought that Bookman would be good for anything but I must admit he was able to teach you a few things. There was some merit in letting him live for a while, I suppose.”_

_Thin, silken skin under his lips. Pulsing veins and a swelling cockhead. Suck it softly, then harder on the way down._

_“Use your teeth. No biting, just let them graze—that’s it—like a good little puppy dog.”_

_Nails brushing his cheek, parting his hair; a firm hand on his head. Suck hard, harder still. Loose jaw, teeth skimming the underside, lips pursing back down._

_“My little platinum retriever. Obedient. Loyal. Awfully social. Make me cum and I’ll give you a treat.”_

_A treat! Food? Or maybe… that. That special touch that only this man could achieve…_

_Allen groaned, his throat vibrating around the head of Tyki’s cock. He could be a good dog when he needed to be._

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Lavi… Are you finished with the tests already?”

“It’s been nine hours, dummy. It’s already midday. You slept like a dog.”

Allen twitched at the choice of phrase, then the words sunk in. “Midday!?” He looked up at Lavi who must have been awake all night and throughout the morning. “Have you even slept yet?” he worried. He reached out a hand, pulling Lavi onto the bed beside him. “You must be exhausted if you had to do the same boring tests I did.”

His lover curled up gratefully next to him. He must have been really tired to leave so much distance between them. Allen scooped him up and drew him close until they were snuggling practically cheek to cheek.

“You are so adorable,” Lavi mumbled.

“Mmmm. Where’s Link?”

“From what I heard, Bak Chang gave him a real run around and refused to tell him which room they snuck you into. Did you sleep well?”

“…The usual.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’d rather not think about it, Lavi.”

*

There was something here. Something about sleep—about dreams. Whether it was what she was after, For had no idea, but it was as good a place to start as any.

“If you don’t get it off your chest, you _will_ be thinking about it.” He was close to spilling, but not quite there. “Can’t you just tell me? I thought we were close enough for that much trust.”

That hit a nerve. “The dreams. They’re just… more vivid now.”

“How so?” For pushed, studying his face for any subtle hints that might give her some direction.

Allen was considering his words carefully, and keeping his eyes firmly shut as if he didn’t want them revealing any of his secrets. “More real. Like they’re really happening,” he elaborated.

“Is it the same every time?”

He sighed. “…Yes. Like I told you before. Just like the memory. Nothing new, just…”

He was lying. Whatever these dreams were, whatever this “memory”… they were not the same.  What an odd thing to lie about. There was something about the vivid nature of the dreams, too. Allen was choosing his words too carefully.

“I mean, you know, is it so real every time?”

“Yes,” Allen breathed. His expression was challenged, like he wanted to talk about it but really didn’t, both at the same time. “It’s like Tyki is really there—touching me—just like he did before he destroyed my innocence. I guess… if anything is different, it’s me.” Allen’s eyes opened, and the look directed at For was partly haunted but also overflowing with gratitude. “Because of you. Because I know that when I wake up, I don’t have to be completely ashamed for the things I did in my dreams. You make that possible.”

“A dream is a dream. Of course you don’t have to be ashamed.” But he was; For could see it in his eyes now. She maneuvered herself over him, intensifying the closeness and acting on the submission evident in Allen’s attitude. “I mean it, Allen. You’re not responsible. What he did to you…” She had an inkling, based on what he had said so far, and it made her sick.

Allen’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It’s not rape,” he pleaded, and her heart sank. “It’s not, because whatever I felt then… Every night, I’m there, doing those things with him—because I want to be. I’m sorry, Lavi! I’m so sorry! It’s not you. I love you, I do. I just… I need h… the dreams. I need them.”

Her heart breaking, For pressed her lips to Allen’s with all the love she possessed for this boy who had been through so, so much in his short life and still dedicated himself to saving everyone around him every single day. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s ok. I know.” She stroked his hair.

They settled and lay there in silence for some time, For turning the words over in her mind. She needed to observe his sleep. She had to see how his body reacted to these dreams. Just how enthusiastic was he? Was he in pain in these dreams? Would he whisper words of love for Tyki Mikk as what she could only consider a nightmarish fantasy played out?

Just what—exactly—had Tyki Mikk done to him to have him brainwashed like this?

“Can you sleep a little longer?” she whispered, feigning exhaustion. “With me? Is that ok?”

“It’s fine,” Allen responded. “He’ll be gone now. Even in my dreams, he won’t come during the day.”

There was a lot of hope in that odd statement, but For guiltily hoped Allen was wrong and that Tyki Mikk would show up in his dreams after all.

*

Tyki might not have shown up, but Road did.

Allen had almost believed he would have some respite, sleeping during the day while Tyki—the real living, breathing Tyki Mikk—was off in the waking world. It wasn’t so bad. Allen would never be able to explain it after all the Noah had done—to him, and to innocent people—but he liked Road. Something about her was calming to him.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” she said.

Allen wondered if she had been spying again, but it wasn’t such an unusual choice of words. He _had_ just slept for nine hours, after all.

“I wasn’t here for nine hours,” he said suddenly, realizing this was a chance to get some information out of Road. “It can’t have been nine hours.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t keep you here all the time,” Road told him, rolling her eyes. “Then you wouldn’t get any actual sleep at all!”

“I see,” Allen murmured. “That’s unexpectedly considerate.”

“Why so unexpected?” Road demanded with a pout. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that!” The girl’s eyes were wide with emphasis and she bounded toward him, throwing herself at him in a tight hug. Nuzzling his cheek, she hummed. “I’ve missed you. Tyki keeps you all to himself.”

“But you watch,” Allen noted.

At first, the whole thing had been so surreal that it hadn’t occurred to him to be bothered by that fact. Now, it was just normal. Tyki dominated him heart and soul in this world of dreams made flesh and Road was always there, watching them, whether she made her presence known or not.

“It’s not the same,” Road complained. “This is nice,” she added, referring to the hug.

“Do you… Do you want me to…”

Allen blushed, embarrassed that the idea even occurred to him to ask this… or was he inviting? Was there any decency left in him, after all? Had the Noah rubbed off on him so drastically that his sense of morals was in complete shreds?

“Do you want me?” he asked, pulling back a little to look down at her so he could see the answer in her eyes.

“Is that an invitation?” she gasped.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Do you just like watching me and Tyki? Or…”

A smirk slowly spread across Road’s lips. “Oh, I like watching,” she said. “And I do want you.” Just as she had done before, she began transforming before his eyes, taking on the look of Tyki Mikk, but this time her voice remained her own.

Allen couldn’t help chuckling. Just how crazy was she? “Are you that obsessed with me and Tyki?”

“My two favorite men; all sexy and sweaty, and wrapped up in each other. What’s not to love?” she asked. “Besides… you still want that revenge, right? Trust me, you’re gonna want that revenge,” she added cryptically. “You can do anything you want to me. Anything you want to do to Tyki.”

Swallowing down a guilty lump of desire, Allen surveyed the tall, darkly beautiful man in his arms. Anything he wanted to do to Tyki. Anything at all…

“Can you make a dog collar?” he asked.

*

About twenty minutes into her observation, Allen’s  breath deepened and then began to shallow steadily. He twitched and hummed soft little moans she might not have heard if she wasn’t listening for them. Once or twice, his hips rolled.

She’d seen enough. Wiping at her tears, she slipped out of the room, standing against the wall in her own original form and thinking about how to report this to Bak.

At first, it had seemed like fun: coming up with a good excuse to bring Allen to the Asian branch, convincing the science division that it was their idea, and then running them all around carrying out the tests that were completely pointless because the comparisons that were to be made would not be between a parasytic-type and an equip type—but a parasitic type and For. By Bak’s subtle arrangement, Lavi had been called away from Headquarters late last night for a top secret mission and this test would never actually be documented, no matter what all those nerds thought they were writing up reams of notes for. Officially, this test didn’t exist.

It was all to get Allen here, out from under the supervision of Howard Link, and convinced that For was in fact Lavi so that he would talk and spill his secrets. What For hadn’t expected was for those secrets to be so devastating.

When Bak approached her, she dug her fists into his shirt, looked up at him, and fought down the choking storm of tears—but there was no denying it. She buried her face in his shirt and cried as he held her there in the hall.

“Let’s go inside,” he said quietly, looking around nervously.

If Howard Link caught them there, he would know Allen was in the room they monitored. She drew him back in. Allen was still moaning—louder now, and interspersed with something akin to laughter but twisted and dark.

For spoke in a voice little more than a whisper so as not to destroy the boy sleeping on the bed. “It happened before he came to us. Tyki Mikk raped him. He’s been dreaming about it ever since, but Bak… I don’t think they’re normal dreams. That girl Noah, isn’t that her power? She controls the dream roads. She could be influencing what he dreams, somehow. Lavi thinks it’s just a regular recurring dream of a bad memory but I think he’s been helping Allen cope. He doesn’t know Allen’s hiding something—he just confessed it to me. That he thinks he’s dependent on whatever it is Tyki is doing to him in there. Look at him, Bak. He’s suffering.”

“You call that suffering?” Bak asked drily, as Allen made a sound that was clearly approving and his body spasmed as if echoing a more complete movement seen in his mind’s eye.

“Don’t. Don’t be flippant about this. He’s confused and disgusted with himself. Look at him! That’s a Noah in there,” she hissed, her hands curling into claws of fury. “Look what they’re doing to him!”

“You’re right. I apologize,” he said, uncommonly serious. “Howard Link can’t know about this.”

*

He had to hand it to her, Road was really creative. A huge black kennel decorated with starry raindrops amid a field of flowers in a purple so deep they were almost black. He had Tyki bent over the roof of that kennel, the diamante-studded black collar clipped to a thick chain clenched in his fist and pulled tight, lifting Tyki’s head by the neck with choking force.

A platinum retriever, was he? Then Tyki would be his obsidian lab; a pet to play with and discard on _his_ terms.

So many long nights. So much turmoil. It all coiled in him as a thread of hatred further twisted by the truth that he did not hate Tyki Mikk at all. So he wrapped his hands around that mirage of hatred now and let it out to appease his suffering soul.

Tyki howled like a beast as Allen wrenched his hair, cutting off his air flow with the thin band of collar digging deep into his neck as Allen twisted the chain around his palm and pulled, tighter and tighter. The power in this utter control over his enemy—his lover, friend, torturer, master, salvation—it was heady and consuming and it had him riding an airy crest of excitement even as he rode the lowly dog pinned to its kennel.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t Tyki at all. That it was Road who heaved and sweated under him and backed up into his vicious thrusts with distressing want meant only that he could do anything to Tyki in this living dream without causing any lasting harm. It was all an illusion, but as long as it felt real, Allen didn’t care.

Was this how it felt for Tyki when he pounded Allen into whatever surface contributed to the set of each nightly encounter? Did the infernal heat and constricting tightness of Allen’s ass cause his head to reel and infuse his hips with a life of their own? Harder, faster, more anger, more desperation, more ecstacy!

Shouting out a wordless cry of raw exertion, Allen pumped himself dry into the shaking body at his mercy and then slid to the ground, pulling Tyki with him as he maintained his unforgiving grip on the chain that was cutting off all access to air. Panting, heaving with the evidence of his wild abandon of moments ago, he stared into the dull eyes that were losing their light even as he watched.

Then he was looking at Road. His fist convulsed once, and then he let it unfurl, cramping and sore.

“Allen, please don’t hate me,” Road whispered, closing her eyes and laying her head over his heart.

“I don’t,” Allen told her simply. “As crazy as it sounds, I don’t.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know it yet,” Road suggested. “But you will. It should all be over soon… and then you’ll hate me.”

“Why say that?” Allen asked, afraid to find out whatever secret Road kept that had caused her to seek this punishing enactment of fantasy.

“Because Tyki is going to kill Lavi. He might even be done by now.”

Fear. Hatred. Pure and unfiltered anger.

Gone—drained—because that was impossible.

“What are you talking about? Lavi is with me—sleeping right beside me.”

“Whoever that is, it’s not Lavi. Because Tyki has the real Lavi and he’s never going to let him go.”

*

One wide-eyed stare at For and Bak watching him with muted sadness and that was all it took for realization to sink in. It was a bitter blend of rage and betrayal in Allen’s eyes, tempered only with a side of terror.

“Lavi is in danger!”

Completely ignorant of his erotic state of mild dishevelment and fading arousal, Allen leaped at For, sending a thrill of shock through her.

“You can’t know that,” she insisted. “It was just a dream, Allen, however realistic.”

He was frantic. “They’re not dreams, For! Not real dreams; not like I told Lavi!” He was desperate. She could feel it in all of her senses. The instinct for self-preservation that protected his secrets was at war with his overwhelming compassion and love for others. In one damning sentence, he confessed the horrible truth. “It’s real, For—a dream world made by Road, where I am slave to Tyki Mikk—to the Noah—and she told me! She told me Tyki is trying to kill Lavi, right now! Where is he!? I have to save him!”


	6. Chapter 6

Yawning, Lavi adjusted the exorcist’s coat tucked behind his head, glad that the hold of the ferry was warm. He gazed around a little blearily at the other passengers and then closed his eyes. He would be at his destination in about three hours so it was a good time to catch up on some rest.

Summoned to the Asian Branch late at night to participate in some kind of test that was suspiciously secretive, he had then been bundled off by Director Chang on an even more top secret mission. What was so hush-hush about looking into some unusual phenomenon possibly related to innocence—basically your average exorcist’s day-to-day—he had no idea, but he would do well to be on guard.

Humming out a sigh as he decided that this might be his last chance to relax, Lavi thought lazily of Allen and wondered what he might have been up to in the hours since Lavi’s hasty departure and overnight horseback travel across a foothill and a river, and then to the shore where he had waited for this ferry. Now, he was on his way to a fairly secluded island.

There were more beasts in the hold than actual passengers and most of those were returnees. Fresh breeding stock apparently came through once a year, and Lavi had gotten lucky to catch this annual ferry-load, or else he would have had to wait three more days for the fortnightly transfer service.

At least that meant he wouldn’t have to wait more than a couple of days to get back if he managed to wrap things up quickly. It made him nervous to be parted from Allen for too long. Something told him the torment of dreams would sink its roots in that much deeper without his reassuring presence.

The reality was that he couldn’t be with Allen all the time, but so far he had managed to keep himself partnered with his lover on most missions due to the compatibility of their abilities and experience as a team. On those occasions when they went off alone or in concert with other exorcists, Lavi had judged that the mission would be short enough and thus safe enough. If he was kept on the island for another week waiting for the next ferry, though…

Well, he wouldn’t be. He’d sort things out and get back to Allen on winged heels. Besides, he missed Allen terribly when they were apart. Now that he had the one thing he’d never even dared to hope for—a relationship with the adorable white rabbit he had so long admired—he felt awfully lonely without the closeness that had developed between them.

Thinking of the world’s cutest little bunny rabbit nibbling and nuzzling at him, all cuddled up in his arms, Lavi nodded off to sleep with a smile.

*

“You’ll make yourself right at home Mr. Exorcist. We remember your kind around here. You need anything, you ask old Pei Shun and she will see to it!”

Herded up the stairs to one of two rooms available for open lodging on the whole island, Lavi wondered which exorcist had been to this island before, and whether that case had had anything to do with this one. It wasn’t all that far from the Asian Branch but it was such an isolated little piece of land that even one visit from an exorcist was highly unusual.

Immediately upon entering the room, Lavi noticed a rectangle of expensive-looking stationary on the bed; its pretty, scrolling black butterflies at odds with the rustic, homey décor of the old house. A tendril of apprehension drew him right to it and he read the pretentious cursive writing with a slack expression.

_The lighthouse on the Eastern peninsula._

_I’ll be waiting. - T.M._

Even Lavi had not known of this mission until he packed off on his way, travelling night and day to reach the tiny, isolated island. That the strange phenomenon around the lighthouse was, in fact, caused by Tyki Mikk, Lavi was now certain. Had the Noah expected Allen to be dispatched for this investigation? Or was Lavi his target?

But how? He couldn’t possibly know that Lavi would be sent. More likely, he would settle for any exorcist who responded to the call. The one thing Lavi was sure of was that Allen was his end-game.

All it meant was that Lavi had the chance to put a stop to his power over Allen once and for all.

*

A Bookman had to be strong. To record history, one had to survive it, and for that, one had to be strong.

Lavi was strong. It was a fact, not a boast. He had to be.

He didn’t stand a chance against Tyki Mikk. That he put up a fight only put him in greater danger as the Noah’s sense of excitement was poked and prodded and awoke with a vengeance.

The fight began at the top of the lighthouse but the structure still stood in its aftermath because Lavi had wasted no time in blasting Tyki through the glass panels and out onto the mess of rocks tapering off into the ocean. When a futile exchange of blows drained him fiercely, he sought cover, ducking back into the shadow and protection of the building—but that had been his undoing.

Tyki Mikk was built for stealth; a fact most apparent as his arms phased not only through the wall Lavi had plastered himself to, but through Lavi’s body as well, capturing him by the neck with dangerous precision. Panting with shock and fear, Lavi closed his eyes and inched forward as urged until he could feel Tyki Mikk’s body solid against him. The elbow around his neck threatened the connectivity of his nervous system. The tease fluttering on Tyki’s wrist did more than threaten, consuming a tiny bite of flesh at Lavi’s hip that flared with a level of agony irreconcilable with such a tiny flesh wound.

*

This wasn’t the Tyki Mikk he remembered. This wasn’t the dapper portrayal of a gentleman barely concealing a frightful quantity of darkness. It wasn’t the wild berserker lashing out viciously with all of that pent-up darkness, either.

Lust itself.

That was what Lavi sensed in the presence that had hold of him. Not the kind of lust tempered by playfulness or emotion, either. This was pure, raw desire, and right now it was centered on him.

He thought of the haunted look in Allen’s eyes and for the first time, he began to understand.

*

_Lavi, I’m afraid. It’s like he has me hypnotized. What he did to me… It felt so good. Impossibly good. Nothing could ever come close… I’m disgusting for it, and perverted and messed up, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I want him to do it again! That’s why I keep dreaming about it. Lavi, help me!_

His clothes might be in artful tatters but they were there—a barrier, a protective casing. That had to count for something!

Wrists bound and held down by his own fear of the terrifyingly pretty little butterflies perched fluttering or idle atop his body at various joints and organs, Lavi was as helpless as he had ever felt.

_There’s a spot… inside of me_ _. Tyki… he…_ _Lavi…_ _He phased part of his hand through me. I know it’s not that easy but… if you can… touch me there…_

Move, and you risk the use of your arms, hands, knees, legs, liver.

Move, and you die.

Move, and you lose.

There is no torture as exquisite as forced stillness while unfettered ecstasy runs like lightning in your veins.

_Whatever that damn Noah did to you, I’m going to undo it. Little by little. Strand by strand. Piece by piece._

It might be better that way. Let the tease undo him little by little, strand by strand, piece by piece. If the pain didn’t kill him, eventually the little beasts would nibble through to something vital and then he would die, for sure. If pleasure didn’t kill him first. How much unrelenting stimulation could his heart and brain take before they broke under the stress?

_Trust me. I can’t replicate a caress made possible through a Noah’s power, but I can give you a new experience to rival it._

No wonder Allen was still tormented. There was no rival for this.

Had Lavi retained even a fraction of cognizance, he might have realized that the tease had long since been disturbed by his flailing and thrashing. He was bound, now, by his own desperate clutching at that rising, cresting, falling, and resurging wave of overwhelming, heartbreaking bliss.

How long it lasted for, how many crests—orgasms; what delineation of hours, he would never know for sure.

A deep voice—velvet made of crushed diamonds—spoke into his ear, wresting full control of his senses to his hearing in the painfully apparent absence of physical sensation.

“You don’t deserve the gift of this pleasure—but I wanted you to know before you die; this is what you thought to compete with, what you tried to deprive him of. You understand, now. He comes to me, willing and longing. Sleeping alone, or wrapped up in your arms, he comes to me every night—for this.”

Lavi didn’t understand. He was incapable of it. He knew only that he was so full of nothingness that it gnawed and burned his insides. Only when he was filled again did his suffering cease, but now he suffered the conflagration of everything he was and ever might have been, incinerated in a furious storm of pleasure until he knew no more.

Black insensibility fell on him swiftly and surely, but one last concept travelled his neural pathways and he recognized it as a message from the twisted lust that was killing him: “Allen Walker is mine.”


	7. Chapter 7

These people had no respect; not for authority, and not for a man simply trying to do his job. They were too wrapped up in everything from misappropriated family values to kinky perversion, and somehow Allen Walker was at the center of it all.

Just because he genuinely liked Allen and recognized the boy’s skill and dedication, didn’t mean he could turn a blind eye when things started to go off course. That Bak Chang and his cronies were so determined to keep Link away from the subject of his observation proved that they were hiding something. Whenever he was on the verge of giving up and seeking aid from his superiors, Link reminded himself that Allen would suffer less if he himself was the one to sort this situation out. This was Bak Chang’s fault. There was no reason for the punishment to fall on Allen, and it would, for the title of Director still held an annoying amount of clout within the Order.

Link was not given this appointment for show, though. He had the skillset he needed to do what must be done, and eventually, he was able to put those skills to good use, following Bak Chang right to Allen.

At first, he had intended to confront the director and the guardian spirit but then For had fallen apart, crying as if the very worst had occurred. Link deduced that he would learn more by concealing his presence for a while longer.

He listened at the door but heard very little. Allen’s outburst, however, was loud and clear and sent chills racing through him.

“Lavi is in danger!” For’s response was muffled but the hysteria in Allen’s voice traveled easily through the cracks around the door frame. “They’re not dreams, For! Not real dreams; not like I told Lavi! It’s real, For—a dream world made by Road, where I am slave to Tyki Mikk—to the Noah—and she told me! She told me Tyki is trying to kill Lavi, right now! Where is he!? I have to save him!”

So little time to process before that door flew open and Link caught a flying Allen-missile in his arms. He held on tight, because one thing was immediately clear to him.

Allen Walker was not going anywhere.

His protests and struggles were thankfully human in nature. For all of his strength and resources, Allen responded to being restrained primarily with a spate of logic that assuredly made a great deal of sense to him, if not to anyone else. “Let me go, Link! You don’t understand! He has Lavi! I'm the only one who can save him! There's no time, I have to-”

It was a good thing he was so trusting and careful of keeping his strength in check against all but his enemies. The boy went down like a sack of potatoes when Link stuck him with a tranquilizer needle kept on hand for just such a situation. There was no need to reveal his other skills just yet.

*

It wasn’t the first time Allen had been handcuffed down to a bed, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last—Tyki had a thing for tying Allen down—but he wasn’t ensconced in the dubious but apparent safety of that dream world now. He was bound to a real bed under the scrutiny of a real captor, and Howard Link didn’t seem inclined to make the most of the situation.

Still drowsy from whatever drug had been pumped through him, Allen was aware of the dire situation and the time wasting away but the urgency of it seemed out of reach for the time being. He blinked up at Link and admired the fragility of the stern expression turned down upon him. If he just smiled more, he might really be attractive. He’d be especially attractive if he would just let Allen go after Lavi.

“I have no intention of letting you do any such thing, and if that makes me unattractive; all the better,” Link spoke gruffly, his expression barely changing.

Allen’s eyes widened as he realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud. That meant his tongue had woken up enough to achieve speech. “Please, Link. Lavi needs me.”

“The Noah told you this.”

“Yes. Road told me.”

“How?”

“In my dream.”

“And you believe this was real.”

“It _was_ real. It _is_ real! How long has Lavi been gone for? If I use the ark-”

“You’re not going anywhere, Allen Walker. Tell me about these dreams.”

The option of simply clamming up and not saying another word crossed Allen’s mind but that wouldn’t solve the immediate issue. He chucked his chin at the inspector and stiffened his spine. “Lavi first,” he said.

“The dreams, first. _If_ I am satisfied that you are not a traitor, _then_ we can see about letting you free to chase after your boyfriend.”

Allen snarled. “What the hell is wrong with you? Because we’re both male it’s ok to hold me down and keep me from saving the life of someone I love?” Link visibly recoiled and a shadow of turmoil clouded his gaze. “I didn’t think you were even close to being this cruel!” Allen persisted. “If it was Lenalee out there in Tyki’s clutches… Do you know what he does to people, Link? Do you know what he could be doing to Lavi right now? What did to me?”

Shaken though he was, Link was unrelenting. “Why don’t you tell me?”

*

There was nothing Bak could do for Allen. Howard Link had been pushed too far and the gravity of the implications in what Allen had confessed was too great to be over-ridden even under the banner of emergency. All Bak could do now was to ensure that Lavi was retrieved safely. That was the top priority. Allen’s release could come later.

There was only one exorcist Bak trusted with this vital mission. The thought of sending him anywhere near Tyki Mikk, knowing what he now knew, filled Bak with absolute dread, but there was good reason for the choice in addition to his faith in the boy’s fighting ability.

Kanda Yuu alone would be immune to the despicable tactics of the Noah of Pleasure.

However, when Bak briefed him in hushed tones as he hurriedly prepared Yuu for the journey, personally fetching and packing all the exorcist would need, he was unprepared for the boy to storm out on him.

“Why me? Why not send Allen?”

The curt inquisition had encouraged a tightly-wound Bak to spill all with very little prying. He was tired and heartsick, and a small piece of him wondered how Yuu would react to the news of Allen’s predicament considering his unusual emotional investment in the relationship between Allen and Lavi.

“He’s having an affair? With a Noah?”

“Not… quite willingly,” Bak ventured. Unsure how to explain what he understood of the situation. “For believes that Allen is being forced,” he said.

“Forced? He’s strong enough to fight.”

“It may be difficult for you to understand, Yuu,” Bak warned. “Sometimes sensation can override our true desires. Allen may not have a choice.” Touching Yuu’s cheek for the selfish comfort of that contact, Bak considered for the first time that his pseudo-lover might just be the lucky one. “You told me you think it’s good that Allen smiles less, and that you think Lavi is a good influence on him,” Bak reminded him, thinking it through as he spoke. “Perhaps Allen has been hiding a great deal of suffering behind a smiling mask for some time now.”

“You’re afraid for him,” Yuu observed.

“There’s no telling what Leverrier will do with this development,” Bak admitted. “For and I had hoped to help Allen, but we lost that chance the moment Howard Link learned of Allen’s dreams. All of our subterfuge has led to disaster, and Allen will be the one to pay the price.”

“Not if Link wants to keep his job.”

Completely unheeding of Bak’s calls for urgency and entreaties for Yuu to leave for the island destination immediately, the exorcist trod an unerring path to the room in which Allen was being held. For gave away the location by resiliently standing guard outside, having been exiled from the bedside under Howard Link’s regrettable authority.

“Let me in. I have an update for Inspector Link,” Yuu announced. “You stay here,” he added, whirling on Bak.

A few minutes later, Yuu emerged. It was impossible to read anything from his posture or expression, and Bak simply followed him silently back to retrieve the pack that was almost ready for a swift journey. Only when they were alone inside the storeroom did Bak press for an explanation.

“What was that all about?”

“Allen will be released and this matter will not be reported. I have Howard Link’s word on it. When the drugs wear off, Allen can come after me. I doubt anyone could make him do otherwise, anyway.”

That was all Yuu would say on the matter, and then he was striding through the halls and off into the gathering night. Confused, afraid, and at a loss, Bak could hardly believe his eyes when Allen stumbled out from captivity with an arm slung over For’s shoulder. He seemed to be coming more awake but his legs were still wobbly and his expression slack.

Instructing For to take Allen to his own office—perhaps the sanctity of it was an illusion but it was one Bak needed right now—the director slipped inside the room in which Allen had spent a great deal of time sleeping throughout this long day.

“Inspector Link,” he greeted, with cold formality.

It was hard to maintain that stance when the man before him was clearly broken. Head in his hands, Link failed to even react to his presence. Yuu must have wielded some weapon to reduce him to this—or was it what information Link had extracted from Allen that had done this to him?

Frustrated and angry that he might be swayed to feel pity for this man, Bak advanced slowly and spoke in a quiet voice seething with pent-up emotion. “Allen Walker is one of the finest exorcists I have ever seen. From the moment we met, he has been carrying an invisible burden and covering up the strain. I will not allow you to escalate his suffering.”

Brave words, considering there was nothing Bak could do to the contrary. Whatever Yuu had, Bak was unaware of it. Perhaps once Yuu returned, he could learn the secret but until then, he could only bluff.

It was disturbing to see red-rimmed eyes brim over with tears as Link finally raised his head and met Bak’s gaze head-on. “There are rules for a reason,” he rasped. “Exorcists are essentially soldiers. They risk their lives every day. Excess emotion for fellow combatants could encourage rash decisions and put them all in even greater danger. Men, women… it doesn’t matter. They shouldn’t be having relations like this.”

“Do you think their emotions are so shallow?” Bak challenged. “If suppressing one’s feelings was as simple as not having sex, this world would be a very different place. However, in this case, I think you will find that the lines are blurred beyond your understanding of what is right and what is wrong.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that such attachments are dangerous-”

“This _attachment_ between Allen and Lavi is a shield,” Bak hissed. “Not a trap.  The enemy’s weapons are unconventional. Lavi is all that stands between Allen and the enemy. He’s not a traitor, Link. Whatever is going on in these dreams, it’s not of his choosing.”

“Then why hide it?”

“Because of people like you! You have already proven that he can’t trust you with this kind of secret—you see it only as ammunition.”

“Yes, I see. That’s why he told you of his own volition. That’s why he told his friends, and his lover, the complete and total truth. It’s only me he couldn’t trust.”

Well. Bak had to admit to being shut up.

Link was right. Allen had kept this from all of them, even Lavi. That was how afraid he was—how ashamed. Ashamed because he couldn’t fight what was being done to him…? Or ashamed because he was betraying the Order of his own will?

Never. Not Allen. Bak would not believe it.

With a start, he realized that Link didn’t either.

“He should have told me,” the inspector whispered as fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “I might have helped him.”

“He doesn’t need your kind of help,” Bak told him, more gently than he expected he was capable of. “He needs Lavi’s. Allen wasn’t always… attracted to men. That’s why For and I grew suspicious. Whatever Tyki has been doing to him, it has changed Allen. He needs Lavi’s love.”

“How could that even happen?” Link asked, genuinely and honestly confused. “How could being… assaulted by another man make someone desire more of that?”

“I don’t know,” Bak replied frankly. “But one could presume that ‘The Noah of Pleasure’ is not an empty title. Somehow, I doubt even you would be immune to his wiles.”

“That’s why you sent Kanda,” Link gasped. “A second!”

“Yes.”

“You can’t let Allen go after them!”

“I know.”

“I could have kept him here—kept him safe.”

“You could have, but you wouldn’t have.” Bak shook his head. “Your sense of duty is too strong not to have taken this to your superiors. Whatever Yuu said to you, it must have packed quite a punch.” 

“How will you keep Allen safe now?” Link asked, dodging the issue.

“For and I will find a way,” Bak promised.

*

“Bak-san!”

Allen was on his feet the moment the director stepped through the door. He could stand on his own now. If he could just find out where Lavi had been sent, he could be on his way in the ark.

“Sit down, Walker,” Bak ordered firmly. The director took a wide berth around Allen to seat himself on the other side of his desk. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”

“That can wait-”

“No. It can’t. Even if it could, I will not allow you to pursue Tyki Mikk. It’s simply not an option.”

“Not Tyki, Lavi!” Allen insisted. “This isn’t about Tyki at al!”

“But it is,” Bak argued. “Whether Lavi was his target, or whether he just got lucky, the one the Noah really wants is you. Can you deny that? Now sit down.”

Reluctantly, Allen sunk back down in the seat he had been in for too long already. “All the more reason to send me, and spare anyone else from getting involved,” he fumed. “Did you know? When you sent Lavi, did you know who he would be facing?”

“Of course not! Allen… If it weren’t for your conviction that Lavi has been captured by Tyki Mikk, I would have no reason to think he was in any danger at all. He was sent on a routine mission. The only reason for its secrecy is the classified status of the island. Apparently there was a massacre of sorts in the past. The details are vague…”

“An island? Not far from here? Off the coast? There’s a ferry…”

Bak frowned. “How do you know it?”

“For the same reason I know why that island is classified and it has nothing to do any massacre. Thank you. Now I know where to go.”

Allen made for the door, intending to make a gate of it, but it opened before he could make it so, and his heart leapt with relief. It was Lavi, grinning at him stupidly as though he’d just been out to town on an errand.

“Miss me?”

“Lavi!” Allen pounced on him, squeezing the life out of him without remorse. “How?”

“What’s all this fuss about the Noah and whatnot?” Lavi asked, struggling to speak with Allen holding him so tightly.

“Walker, if you would release Lavi from that death grip and _take a seat_ please, it would seem there are multiple stories to be told and truths to be heard. Starting with yours.”

Rather than releasing Lavi, Allen held on. He buried his face in his lover’s neck and breathed in deeply. So clean. Not the usual scents of slightly charred wood or scented soap, just fresh and clean. It was oddly relaxing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

There was nothing for it now but to tell the truth—to Lavi, to Bak, and probably even to Howard Link. Allen still couldn’t believe the accusation he had witnessed that Link—of all people—had taken advantage of a drunk Kanda—of all people—offering sexual favors to the inspector who he had apparently mistaken for someone else. It was shocking, to say the least, but whether it would be enough to keep him from reporting Allen’s transgressions was questionable. Eventually, Link had to cotton on that what he had done was only criminal in his own mind. Those around him were guilty of far greater perversions. Yet, Link being Link, this would be difficult for him, at the least.

First, Lavi. “I lied to you. Not at first! I really… I really did think they were just dreams; that it was my twisted subconscious desires manifesting…” Lavi stroked his hair soothingly but with less confidence than usual. It made Allen nervous, but he had to finish confessing before he lost his nerve. “It was real, Lavi. It’s always been real. Road… She uses her power over dreams to bring me to Tyki in my sleep. I’ve known the truth for a long time now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lavi asked, his voice weak as if he didn’t want to ask at all.

“How could I? Dream or real, it doesn’t matter. I told you. I need him. He made me need him, and now I can’t live without it. I’ll go crazy… Lavi, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… For cheating on you. For giving myself to a Noah. For being so messed up.”

“What do you mean ‘giving yourself?’ Can you tell me clearly? What’s really going on here?”

“In the dreams… Tyki does whatever he wants to me. Because I let him. Because I want him to. That’s the truth. I want him to.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I don’t know.” Allen wished he could burrow right into Lavi’s skin—to hide himself or to bring them closer before this truth tore them apart. Somehow, he had to make Lavi understand. “It’s not the same. I really care about you. It’s not like that. I just… can’t stop thinking about him.”

“That’s enough.”

The gruff voice came from behind Allen. It was Bak. He’d forgotten he and Lavi weren’t alone.

“Bak-”

“This is wrong.”

It all came together at once. The clean scent, the hesitant touches… fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…

Allen recoiled, shoving the likeness of Lavi violently out the open door. In a moment, it was For standing there, posture dejected and eyes downcast.

“You can’t go. And we had to know the truth,” she said, glancing up in apology but unable to meet his shocked eyes for long at all. “Allen, if you try to leave, I’ll fight you. I won’t let you go to Tyki Mikk. I won’t let him have you—even if it’s what you want.”

“What I w…”

Sickness assaulted Allen all at once. He felt dizzy and stumbled back against the chair, leaning heavily. She thought he wanted to go to Tyki? In the real world? To be his in real life?

…Did he? Was there some part of him, however small, that wanted to become Tyki’s dedicated pet so badly he would rush off into the Noah’s very arms at the first chance?

No. That was preposterous. He could easily debunk that theory by staying put, by not going after all.

But Lavi. He had to save Lavi.

Or was that just an excuse?

Allen only realized he was crying when For pulled him into her arms and absorbed his escalating sobs.

“Kanda Yuu is already on his way to Lavi’s aid,” Bak said quietly behind him. “The ark would be faster, but we can’t risk you, Allen. Not this time.”

He wanted to snap that Kanda would be in just as much danger as Lavi and how could they risk _him_? Why was Allen so special and Kanda so expendable?

It was For who guessed his thoughts and answered them. “If Tyki is using sex as a weapon, Kanda might be the only one who can stand up to him. We just have to trust in him.”

“And my master,” Allen wheezed between sobs. “Maybe it’s not too late… Lavi… Please come home.”


	8. Chapter 8

The way he figured it, he had a few choices:

  1. Fight the Noah. _Messy. Dangerous, even. Annoying._
  2. Pretend he was never there. _Even he couldn’t just abandon a fellow exorcist who was about to get murdered._
  3. Fight stealth with stealth, rescue the Bookman, and get the hell out of there before the Noah could comprehend he’d been thwarted. _A pain in the ass but preferable by comparison._



Grumbling all the way, Cross Marian went with the third and—as far as he was concerned—only option.

It was a simple matter to activate Grave of Maria and enter the lighthouse under the cover of Magdala Curtain. Even though he had fallen prey to Grave of Maria before, the Noah was unaware of the general’s presence, and thus unprepared to fend off the illusion. Even so, Cross could sense his power—very different from that of the berserker he had fought within the ark. Fighting Tyki now would only get Lavi killed, and perhaps even Cross himself.

Mollified in his decision of a strategic retreat, Cross paused only briefly to observe the baffled Noah, deprived of his prey. The twitching, shuddering state of the young man in the general’s arms was testament enough to Tyki’s perversion. That the Noah of Pleasure was worked up to a distracting level of arousal only made it that much worse.

Disturbed and concerned for the Bookman, the general beat a hasty retreat to the small estate he maintained on that side of the island. He was confident that the proximity would not lead to discovery. The Noah had no way of knowing this island was Cross’ own personal retreat.

Needing a respite from the constant surveillance he had been subjected to, the general had slipped the leash, leaving behind a modified akuma wearing his face. It was only for a short time. Through the ark, he was easily able to reach the Asian branch and thus the island he had arranged to have marked as classified long ago. The quiet little village here was in his debt after his resolving of a dangerous case of berserk innocence affecting the wildlife long ago. They welcomed him with open arms whenever he showed his face and kept the small estate in prime condition for those times when he quietly returned to recover from his long, grueling journeys in peace.

As far as those “in the know” at The Order were concerned, he used this island as a base to modify akuma in secret, thus justifying the secrecy surrounding the location. His pets kept the island safe. In fact, it was a modified level 2 who had informed him of the strange phenomenon around the lighthouse. He had ordered the creature to keep watch, thinking he could rest, enjoy a night or several with his favorite fisherman’s daughter, and then check out the oddity before slipping back to The Order unremarked.

That the ferryman had come into contact with a finder and informed him of the strange light shows and misty apparitions around the lighthouse, he hadn’t learned until it was too late. When the lovely old lady who kept the only guest room in the small village and brought him delicious stews and soups mentioned the exorcist who had arrived earlier that day and since gone off to do his work, he had felt resigned. Then, she had told him of the note she had noticed when renewing the tapers in the guestroom.

By the description, Cross had recognized that the exorcist was none other than the Bookman’s successor, Lavi—a close companion of his own pupil. The initials on the note had filled him with dread. There was no binding evidence that the note had been left by the Noah, Tyki Mikk. Of course, there was even less evidence that it hadn’t.

The screams, moans, and begging that echoed from within the lighthouse upon approach had at first led the general to believe he had stumbled across an illicit affair. However, he was well accustomed to tones of lust and longing. The desperation in Lavi’s contorted cries was nothing so wholesome. He made his plans, extracted the Bookman, and left before Tyki Mikk ever knew he had been and gone.

*

Ecstasy lingered.

Keeping vigil over the Bookman who was suffering exquisitely, General Cross began to understand some of what had been done to him. At first, he contemplated recruiting one of the village girls to alleviate some of the persisting symptoms but he quickly came to understand that a village lad might be more apt.

From Lavi’s deranged mutterings, he would much prefer the general’s own disciple but bringing Allen here was out of the question—for selfish reasons as well as strategic ones. No-one was a bigger nag than the boy Cross had taken in unawares. His secret sabbatical, his island retreat, his disdain to fight the Noah head-on… anything and everything would be ground by a pestle of criticism into a fine ash.

It was far preferable for Cross to simply deal with the situation himself. So he decided as he cast aside his coat and moved to the edge of the bed, laying his fingers gently on Lavi’s arm.

The young man thrashed and moaned as if the light touch burned. Perhaps it did.

*

One thing Lavi was achingly aware of was that he was not dead. This limbo of painful pleasure was so physical a sensation that if it were death, it could only be the death of his soul, not his body.

Eventually, he understood that Tyki was gone. The phantom sense of touch deep within him was no more than a hallucination. It faded, in a sense, but memory was intense. The less immediate the sensation became, the more frustrating, for he could still feel it and craved its escalation. It was as though the touch could return at any moment, showering him in white-hot sparks and propelling him into oblivion. Yet, it did not.

Over time, he sensed another presence. A voice began to murmur to him—not the silken song of seduction the Noah had enchanted him with. This voice was harsh gravel, and not entirely pleasant. It was jarring and warred with the spell of aesthetic that still gripped the Bookman.

The voice spoke prayers that contradicted the actions of the hands that accompanied it. Even while the voice invoked God and the angels, mercy and cleansing, the hands catered to the lustful urges. They were accomplice to the pleasure still festering deep in Lavi’s loins. They touched him, setting his skin aflame. They stroked him, milking him of one orgasm after another.

Still, the ecstasy lingered.

*

Compassion was not his strong suit. There was a limit to what the general was willing to do to ease the suffering of his incidental charge.

It seemed that limit was far from enough.

Simply put, he wasn’t gay. He wasn’t turned on by boyish forms or manly behaviors. Wrapping his hand around the stiff flesh of the male arousal made him grimace in distaste.

There was a small part of him, though, that wondered. If he was subjected to the same surreal caress of the Noah of Pleasure, would he be as susceptible? Clearly, Lavi was already corrupted. The case that brought up the question was that of Allen.

The general kept tabs on his pupil, and had been surprised to learn of the relationship that had developed between he and Lavi. Allen had always been as straight as an arrow. Hell, the kid had even proven himself naturally skilled in the art of pleasing women. It was baffling to think that he would suddenly get all hot and horny even over such a fine specimen of masculinity as Lavi.

Now, the mystery was regrettably solved. The Bookman’s begging, raving, and apologies had painted enough of a picture for the general to know his pupil had been subjected to a similar ravishing and that it tormented him. Worse, he gleaned that Allen was still the Noah’s target.

The information was vague and disturbing. Cross needed the Bookman fully lucid and coherent to explain in detail just what had been done to Allen, and what the Noah was after.

For that, he was going to have to extend his limits.

De-robing, the general contemplated the tortured young man squirming aimlessly atop soiled sheets. He might not mind such torture himself. It seemed a rather agreeable way to pass the time—but not everyone could have his sex drive and capacity for being underwhelmed by the ravishes of pleasure.

The general was genuinely relieved to find that he didn’t have to be gay to be willing. Just because he wasn’t attracted to Lavi didn’t mean he was immune to the shameless display of wanton lust and excruciating release that he had continued to witness since rescuing the Bookman.

Every bit the gentleman, he leaned low to speak into Lavi’s ear. “You’ve begged me enough to warrant consent, but let me be clear. This is purely surgical. If I hand you over to The Order like this, they might just lock you up for days or weeks until it passes, and probably leave you a vegetable. I’ll stop this before it can consume you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Cross was no stranger to the intricacies of the rear orifice. He imagined it wouldn’t be much different to how it felt with a woman. In some ways he was right… in others, he was wrong.

For one thing, there were no delightfully squishy breasts to grab onto, only sleek muscles under his clutching hands. For another—perhaps because of the state of heightened sensation wracking the younger exorcist—the reaction to his probing fingers and the infiltration of his sizeable length were instantaneous and extravagant.

*

The fog of bliss began to clear at last with discomfort and some pain. It wasn’t all bad—Lavi was keenly perceptive to every little tingle of pleasure as the massive length worked its way into him—but it was painful enough to distract and, contrarily, to bring focus.

He moaned, doing so intentionally for the first time since he had lost awareness, in order to express the rush of sensation. This was real—no maddening sense of a phantom touch mimicking true contact. It hurt, and it felt good, and it was real.

Pinned beneath his body—rolled onto its side and rocking back and forth, held upright from behind—his arm was numb, sending tingles up to his shoulder. His muscles ached with the over-use that came with constant tension, especially his abs and upper thighs. He was hot all over and his skin was wet with sweat. It trickled through his eye patch and down his nose, tickling.

Blinking his good eye, he could make out a candle-lit room, further illumined in moonlight from what must be a large window at his back. Another series of blinks to clear the sweat on his lashes and blurring vision. On a wooden chair beside the bed on which he writhed, a white mask was discarded. Hung over the slatted back of the chair were exorcist’s robes. He heaved in a strong breath, squeezing his eye closed tightly and then prying it open once more, needing confirmation of what he thought he had seen and the deduction he made of it. On the table, a gun. A very specific gun.

“General… Cross,” he gasped.

The rocking stopped, allowing him to revel in the fullness of the large cock buried fully in his ass. His abs tightened, flattening his lower body more firmly against the hips behind him.

“Bookman,” the general greeted. His deep, gravelly voice might have seemed colored with lust on anyone else, but it was standard for the general. The tone itself was so nonchalant, they might have been passing apathetically in the hallway.

“What’s…”

“Shhh. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

The general began to move again, lending weight to his words as Lavi cried out and his body shuddered with contractions. He toppled gratefully onto his stomach, his fingers digging into the sheets as the general’s arm wound about his waist, supporting and lifting, positioning his lax body for easy access as strong, wide hips drove persistently into him.

Tyki’s ministrations had left Lavi drowning in sensitivities he’d never known before and even with the return of his mental faculties, the Bookman was overwhelmed by the feelings raging in his flesh. At least now he could separate thought from feeling to an extent. Enough to deduce that whatever the circumstances, whatever the reasons, general Cross was acting on Lavi’s condition in much the same way he himself had acted on Allen’s. Fight fire with fire, pleasure with pleasure.

Only, now Lavi understood that he would never feel whole again—just as Allen would never feel whole again. As another wave of contractions accosted him, tears spilled down his cheeks in another kind of release. He’d never felt so vulnerable.

Cross stilled again, brushing Lavi’s hair back from his face and tucking it behind his ear. It was such a matronly motion that Lavi’s tears came to a halt in confusion.

The general pressed a firm kiss to his temple. Then, he began to recite a prayer, twining his fingers with Lavi’s and renewing his motions, lightly as he spoke, then more vigorously when he ran out of words.

**_“We come boldly before Your throne of grace and mercy to find strength in our hour of need.  Lord, Your word says to watch and pray so that we will not enter into temptation, for we know that the spirit is willing, but Father our flesh is weak. Lord, we submit, for Your word says that if we submit ourselves unto You, that we may resist the enemy and he would flee from us. Lord, we are fully submitted to You, all that we are, all that we ever hope to be, we surrender unto You. Father, we are weak but thou art strong. We know in our weakness that You are made strong. We know that our strength is not in our will to withstand the devil and his many temptations, but our faith, our strength, our hope is in You. Therefore, Lord, we confess that we are strong in You, and in the power of Your might.”_ **

Lavi recognized the prayer and felt the words encompass him. He was a Bookman and driven not by religion but by knowledge—but he was also an exorcist, and the innocence he wielded was proof of some kind of higher power, even if it were extinct or defunct and innocence all that remained. Regardless, Cross Marian’s words resounded with power and Lavi latched onto them with all of the hope that lived in him. He recognized the prayer and joined his voice to the general’s. Remembering phrases as they came and pouring his will into each word like a shield of light against the dark.

That the prayer was a ward against lust itself and thus utterly contradictory to their actions meant little. The meaning of the words spoke differently to Lavi but he felt them as truth. To him, Cross was a vessel of the Lord he invoked, and Tyki Mikk—the Noah of Pleasure—the devil against whom his will must withstand.

The power of the words wrapped around him and Lavi rose up with renewed strength, leaning upright against his lover, his hips propelled upward by the force of each thrust. The endless chain of building tension and cataclysmic release dwindled to a steady monotone of warm pleasure, embarking on a slow but intense rise to a crescendo that purged Lavi of what seed was left in him, along with fear, doubt, and guilt.

When it was over, the general held him, cradling his body as if it might crumble in the wake of overwhelming stress. There were no kisses, no sweet nothings to be murmured, just an offering of protection and fortification that Lavi was grateful to accept.

Only later, when he awoke with the red blaze of dawn, did he consider that maybe Allen might not be so understanding if he learned what Cross Marian had done—what Lavi had willingly and gratefully accepted. For the first time, he began to consider what they were to each other.

Allen had accepted his advances out of necessity, but had himself admitted that something in him had changed. Once, he would not have been capable of harboring feelings for Lavi, but now, the Bookman was sure that he did.

For Lavi, Allen was a priceless treasure he’d never dared to hope he could ever afford and somehow been miraculously gifted with. He loved Allen. He loved the dopey mornings, the quiet intelligence mixed with bouts of idiocy, the sadistic snaps, the sweet generosity… He also loved being with Allen. They made love like stars colliding and his own sense of worth was infinitely improved by Allen’s approval.

It didn’t matter if Allen didn’t love him with the same completion. It didn’t matter if there was a permanent stretch of distance between them that constantly tickled his awareness. Lavi already had more than he had ever dreamed of.

Just how much did Allen care, though? As a friend, he was infallible. As a lover, or a loved one… Would it bother him that Lavi had had sex with another man? Come to think of it…

Would Allen be more upset that Lavi had been assaulted by Tyki? Or that Tyki had assaulted Lavi? Would he be angry? Jealous? And of whom?

Tyki’s words, engraved in the recesses of his mind, fired with sniper-like accuracy.

_You don’t deserve the gift of this pleasure—but I wanted you to know before you die; this is what you thought to compete with, what you tried to deprive him of. You understand, now. He comes to me, willing and longing. Sleeping alone, or wrapped up in your arms, he comes to me every night—for this._

Allen was lying to him—had been from the very beginning.

…Perhaps not. There was too much that remained uncertain, but the reality of the lie remained.

Lavi wanted to cry and rage, to give in to jealousy and anger, but he knew he didn’t have that right. His relationship with Allen was never built on possession and fidelity. It was built on trust. That was the crux of it.

Allen had betrayed his trust, and that meant that all he had done to help his lover heal was for naught. He deserved to be angry for that… but he wasn’t. He was just frightened. How could he save Allen if Allen didn’t want to save himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #SorryNotSorry


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Kanda finally reached the island, Lavi had contacted Bak by golem, who had contacted Kanda in turn, changing the urgency of his orders. Instead of hiring a rowboat and expending all of his strength just getting to the damn island, Kanda was cleared to wait for the ferry. Thus, it was a couple of days before he found Lavi at the small waterside estate the Bookman had apparently taken up residence in.

It was still midmorning. They ferry would not leave for the return trip to the mainland until evening. It was about an hour’s trek from the estate to the dock so there was plenty of time for de-briefing.

An annoyingly long portion of that time was wasted in searching for Lavi, who was finally found sitting on the beach, hidden from view from the estate by some greenery. He was staring solemnly out at the waves and completely lost in thought.

Stalking up to him, Kanda noted the moment Lavi took notice of him. When he was close enough, he greeted his fellow exorcist and clapped a hand on his shoulder as if to say, “I’ve caught you. Now we can go.” However, Lavi’s reaction was as startled as if he had not seen Kanda coming at all.

Lavi’s whole body jerked and he froze, staring at Kanda with wild eyes that slowly softened to sadness. His gaze drifted to his shoulder, where Kanda’s hand still lay, and he seemed conflicted about whether or not to voice how uncomfortable it clearly made him.

A brief, experimental squeeze told Kanda all he needed to know before he removed his hand, taking a step back to reduce the threat and taking a seat on the sand despite his reluctance to sully his uniform. Lavi was uncommonly silent, turning his gaze back to the water, and Kanda found that silence educational enough not to disturb it for a while.

“He was here,” Kanda deduced eventually. “Just as Walker said.” The silence stretched out a little further. “I don’t care what happened; just confirm that he’s already gone and we can be on our way.”

“He’s gone, but it’s not over… When you touched me… I thought that man had purged me but I’ll never be free of it.”

Disturbed by the despair he heard in Lavi’s voice and remembering the explanations Bak had made about what had been done to Allen and how that might affect a normal person, Kanda took too long to respond. Eventually, he snorted with his usual disdain, clinging to the status quo.

“I touched your shoulder and now you want me? I’m flattered, but dream on.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. A rock has more empathy.”

Yelled and slung like a dart, that statement would slide right off Kanda’s skin like a light rain. Spoken in such a matter-of-fact manner as if Lavi didn’t really care either way, that barb struck deep and lodged in Kanda’s chest.

“Empathy has nothing to do with it. Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to change what happened—neither to you, nor to Allen. My feeling sorry for you isn’t going to make a difference, so just tell me what I _can_ do.”

“What do you care?”

This time, it was the lack of apathy that twisted the barb a little deeper. The genuine surprise Lavi turned on him made it very clear that the Bookman didn’t think him capable of a shred of humanity.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured. “And I never will.” Even as he spoke, Kanda marveled that he was discussing this—a thing he had unconsciously resolved never to dwell upon—with Lavi of all people. “What Tyki Mikk did to you and Allen… I can’t even imagine. Maybe that’s why I can’t understand what’s so terrible about it. I’d give anything to feel what you felt—what you and Allen feel when you’re together. I guess the grass is greener on the other side.”

So put off by his own talkativeness and the spate of honesty that he failed to assess Lavi’s movements, Kanda was taken by surprise when the Bookman fell to his knees, practically on top of him, and soft, plump lips assaulted his own. He blinked, resisting the urge to shove Lavi away and analyzing instead.

It wasn’t that he felt nothing—the texture of those lips was pleasant against his own and the scent Lavi gave off was oddly comforting—it just didn’t incite arousal in him. It was no different from being kissed by Bak… No, that wasn’t true. When Bak kissed him there was a stirring, a sense of happiness. It was missing from this kiss.

He waited until Lavi pulled away, with what Kanda recognized as lust burning in his one good eye. “What the hell?” he scolded.

“You really didn’t feel anything?” Lavi breathed, his voice colored more with curiosity than with disappointment.

“What did you expect? This isn’t Sleeping Beauty. Your lame-ass kiss isn’t going to wake up some dormant strain in my DNA. Back off, would you?”

Kanda might be unaffected, but Lavi was not. His body sung with tension and he nodded several times in agreement when Kanda asked him to move, then did so slowly, sitting down onto his backside and drawing up his knees. He was staring with a kind of fixation that Kanda found strangely complimentary.

“Sorry.”

Kanda watched him rock slightly with discomfort and glance up toward the estate as if he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave—but doing so would expose him in a way that was even more humiliating than the rejected kiss. Or so Kanda surmised.

“I’m not capable of empathic understanding but I do comprehend the logistics,” Kanda allowed. “I understand that under normal circumstances you would rather kiss a wet fish than me—and yes, the feeling is mutual—and that you’re not really in control of yourself. The sooner we get you back, the sooner you and your boyfriend can do whatever it is you need to do to fix this.”

Kanda was halfway to his feet when Lavi turned teary eyes up at him and wheezed, “I can’t.”

At first, he thought it was about the physical condition that had Lavi cuddling his knees to his chest and would be revealed if he stood, but then a suspicion formed, backed up by older speculations. This was about Allen. Kanda lowered himself back down, crossing his legs and folding his arms as he studied the Bookman.

In time, Lavi found the words to continue. “I can’t save him. I can’t even save myself.”

“Maybe what you need is to save each other,” Kanda mused. “That idiot is greedy and easily distracted. He’s never given as much of himself to you as you gave to him.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter what you expect of him, or what he’s capable of—it’s about what you need from him.” Just like Bak. He knew Kanda couldn’t match his physical enjoyment and he didn’t expect such a feat, but he needed it, and that need would always be a wedge between them. There was nothing either of them could do about that, but maybe Allen and Lavi… “You gave him all of yourself, but half of him belonged to someone else.”

“…Belongs.”

“Yes. So what about you? Can you still give all of yourself to Walker?”

Lavi’s frown wavered between accusatory and self-reproachful but his eyes slowly lit with enlightenment and his jaw relaxed until his lips fell apart with a little gasp.

“Half of him… and half of me…”

“It’s not ideal but at least it’s balanced.”

“And now that… Now that I understand… Maybe now he can tell me everything—the whole truth. At least now we can share this awful burden together…”

“Way to look on the bright side. That’s the Lavi I know. Now let’s get out of here.”

*

The sun was slipping toward the horizon, prompting them to get a move-on or risk being stuck on the quiet little island for another two weeks. As they walked, Lavi filled Kanda in on the bare details of his encounter.

He kept it strictly matter-of-fact and said nothing more than that the Noah had violated him. Kanda had already exhausted his emotional quota for the day. That made it easier to gloss over what had happened after.

According to his retelling, Tyki Mikk had left him for dead and Lavi had been found by one of the villagers and taken to the empty estate to recover in privacy. That General Cross had ever been on the island, had rescued him, and then tended and relieved him in his desperate state, Lavi would keep to himself.

The general had left a day ago, announcing that he had some things to take care of before he snuck back to the Order and returned to his lazy life of captivity. Something about his demeanor led Lavi to believe he planned to hunt Tyki Mikk and exact some revenge for Allen. If anyone could do it, it was Cross.

There was a great deal of silence during the return trip to the Asian branch and Lavi had plenty of time to think about what he needed to say to Allen. He was almost prepared by the time he and Kanda stepped over the threshold with relief and instantly branched off in separate directions.

However, his preparedness went to waste when For came at him like a ghost with a grudge. “Allen’s not responding! He’s been out for over 24 hours! Come on!”

*

At first, they had tried to keep him awake. For and Bak had taken turns playing cards, pinching his cheeks, and dumping him under the shocking torrent of a cold shower when necessary—but the futility was clear to them all. Teeth chattering, Allen clung to Bak’s warm, dry chest as he was carried back to the card table. Instead of propping him in the comfortable armchair, Bak sat in it himself and cradled Allen against him.

“This won’t work much longer,” he sighed.

“It’s ok,” Allen whispered, his voice rasping with tiredness. “Just let me go.”

“There has to be somethi-”

That was when the call came. Bak stood and sat Allen down in the armchair instead, making sure that he was upright and awake before going to the door and taking the golem and receiver that were handed to him.

“Lavi!?”

The outburst jolted Allen away from the precipice of impending sleep and he looked over at the director with bleary eyes, straining his ears and mind to not only take in but also comprehend the one-sided conversation.

“Allen was correct then. He’s been worried sick about you, convinced that the Noah was going to kill you.” “A lot has happened here, but what about you? Wha-” “You don’t sound fine. What did he do to you?” “You’re sure he’s gone?”

Whatever was discussed after that, Allen had no way of knowing. Even in his exhausted state he was able to comprehend that Tyki had probably violated Lavi in much the same way as when it had first happened to Allen. The despair of that thought was temporarily counteracted by the confirmation that Lavi was alive and capable of checking in and that he would be back soon. Then Tyki was before him and  
Allen was consumed with rage.

“What did you do to Lavi?” he growled.

“My, such ferocity!” Tyki’s purr, for once, did nothing to rile Allen’s libido, instead adding fuel to his anger. “If I’d known I would get so lucky I would have chosen a more public stage for my trap.”

Before he knew what was happening, the battle was well underway, but Allen couldn’t land a single hit on the smug Noah who was calm and rational, and easily evaded the wild swings of a berserker.

“Oh dear. Did I kill him? I meant to, of course, but he slipped out of my grasp right at the finish. Clearly, that wasn’t your doing. I am surprised you didn’t come for him. I expected you to come charging in to rescue whatever innocence-wielding brat stumbled into my hands and yet you couldn’t even be bothered to come save your own lover. Maybe I was jealous over nothing, eh?”

The monologue wore on and on until Allen stumbled to his knees and hit the ground hard, tearing a chunk of the imaginary concrete with his activated innocence.

“What did you do?” he gasped, choking back tears as he imagined Lavi struggling with the same despair and confusion that had never stopped plaguing him. “I surrendered myself to you long ago. Why do this? Why now?”

“Because you’re mine, Allen Walker,” the Noah snarled, bending on one knee and leaning close to Allen’s ear so the words could be directly absorbed. “I want your heart—all of it—and your soul, and your body, and everything else in between.”

A cry of despair tore from Allen’s throat; a twisted, inhuman sound that broke him with its wretchedness. He collapsed, sprawling motionless on the fake floor of the fake world, his innocence reverting back to an ugly husk of an arm.

It didn’t matter anymore. Lavi had been the only grace in his world and now that was tarnished. Tyki could do with him what he would. Allen would take it all. He was beyond caring, beyond responding. Maybe the Noah would finally get bored of him if he stopped hurting so much and just let it all come, and then maybe they would kill him and he could find some peace.

Road was there too, of course. She looked on with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes as Tyki sought a response through ever-more-violent means. When the usual stimulation brought Allen to a passionless orgasm and his body immediately went limp again, scratches turned into gashes and bruises into broken bones but still Allen remained stoic. Those cries, whimpers, and groans that escaped him were reactionary and involuntary. His body reacted to the good and the bad as it would, but it did so independent of his will, for that was gone—fled.

“Stop!”

The anguished cry echoed over and over and over until it summoned Allen’s consciousness back into his body. He was inundated with pain of all kinds, both inside and out, and he wished he had not been snapped out of the soulless trance that had made this torture immaterial.

“Tyki, you’ll break him! He can’t take this!”

“Need I point out that you can stop this at any time, Road? You haven’t done and you won’t. You love it.”

“This isn’t the same! You’re just hurting him because you’re jealous, and angry. You’re going to hate yourself when you snap out of it.”

“So cut me off. I dare you.”

“Tyki…”

The weak whisper bubbled up with a mouthful of blood. Allen choked and coughed, turning his head slightly to spit but he could feel the warm trickle down the side of his face. He closed his eyes against a wave of sickness.

“Kill me… if that’s what you want. Please. Just end this.”

Had Allen’s eyes been open, he would have seen the contortions that wracked the Noah’s face with a ream of expressions. Among them was disgust for the ugly thing he had created through destruction, and horror for how eagerly he had done so. Also present were pity, remorse, and pain. At last, Tyki became aware of how far he had stepped over the ever-blurred line and the impossibility of turning back.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said, denial choking his voice. “Road, fix him.”

“I can’t!” Rife with emotion, Road’s cry seemed to shatter whatever illusion of apathy remained and Allen wailed with agony. “I brought you here, but your power makes everything you do here real as real as this reality. As long as he’s here…”

“If you release him, he’ll be ok.”

“The moment he comes back, he’ll still be-”

“…No. There won’t be a next time. Get out of here, and when I leave, you’ll sever the dream road for the last time.”

“Don’t hurt him… Not any more.”

“I won’t.”

“Allen… I’m so sorry. I love you.”

A confession of love from a Noah… How quaint. Did it mean what it sounded like it meant? Or did Road love him in that plutonic family kind of way, like she loved her Noah siblings, and Tyki? Ridiculous to even contemplate. It didn’t mean anything. Nothing meant anything to Allen anymore.

When he opened his eyes, Tyki loomed to one side, sitting beside him and surveying the damage he had done. He almost looked sad.

“I liked you. You were cute and clever, and just a little bit evil. You were a toy to me, but the side of me that was more human than Noah… But you ran me through with that sword and shifted the balance. You were still a toy—but one for darker games. Then… you weren’t. If it was just my white self that cared for you, you might not have suffered, but this dark side of me, the one that’s in control all the time now… it cares for you too, and that’s dangerous. Jealousy has been known to drive men mad. Ah, but I want you, Allen Walker. Even now, looking as you do, a little voice whispers from my soul saying ‘Just one more time. Take him again, for the road.’ It might break you like Road said, but that isn’t what holds me back. If I don’t walk away now, I never will—and what would the Earl think about that, my pet? No, it’s time to put an end to this while I have the will; and seeing you so wretched and battered… What I did to you in in my possessive need... That gives me the will. Goodbye, Allen. Next time we meet, it will be as enemies on the battlefield.“

The parting kiss hurt, and not just physically. Allen began to cry with ache of losing what he had come to need, even after this brutal beating—the sadness of losing someone he cared for, even if those feelings were twisted and wrong. The relief of his body was not enough to distract from the tearing of his heart and he instinctively sought Lavi’s waiting arms, crying into his boyfriend’s chest until he ran out of tears.

“It’s over,” he gasped, finally. “He let me go.”

When Lavi stroked his hair and lipped his temple and whispered, “I’m sorry,” Allen knew he understood. It could have meant “I’m sorry you went through this,” but they both knew it meant, “I’m sorry for the loss,” too.

Clinging for all he was worth to the best thing that had ever happened to him, Allen sought the truth of the words he had always meant a little differently, and finally spoke them in earnest. “I love you, Lavi!”

“Thank you,” Lavi whispered. “I love you, too. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I’ll be here for you, too,” Allen responded shyly, hesitantly pulling back so that he could see into Lavi’s eye. “It’s just you and me now.”

The clearing of a throat demanded Allen’s attention, and he was ashamed to find he had been completely oblivious to the combined presences of Link, Kanda, For, and Bak. He couldn’t meet any of their eyes.

“I think you’ll find that your calculations are a little off,” Link informed him.

“Preparations for the relocation of Headquarters are almost complete,” Bak announced, reminding Allen of how many days had passed since he had been drafted for the top secret test he now realized was a hoax. “You and Lavi will stay here and recover until then.”

“Typical Moyashi. I do double my share of work while you shirk it playing the pity card.” Kanda’s huff was followed by a quick exodus from the room, but not before Allen was stunned by a sparkle of tears at the corner of one eye.

“He has a point! I have a mountain of paperwork to fill out, thanks to you two!” Bak was quick to follow, leaving few illusions as to just how much paperwork would be getting done.

Allen pouted at For. “Does he remember that he lured us here under false pretenses and then tricked us into spilling secrets kept private for good reason?”

Walking over, For popped a solid kiss right on Allen’s forehead and then patted his white tuft of bed-hair. “Now you know what lengths we’ll go to, maybe you’ll just trust us instead, hmm? Even that one.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder.

Howard Link was studying the wall and trying very hard not to let his eyes stray back to Allen and Lavi but they did so anyway. “I don’t approve,” he snapped. “Of any of it. But… maybe that’s what you need. A perspective that isn’t irrevocably corrupted. I urge you to make use of it.”

“Not ‘irrevocably’ corrupted? I’ll have to work on that…” It wasn’t For, but Lenalee who turned on the inspector and began to sashay across the room to him.

“Stop that! Don’t you d-”

“Don’t like what you see?”

“No! I mean, yes, of course, I… But-”

“How about this one, then?”

Howard Link was beet red by the time a fake Kanda Yu prodded him out of the room and then shot a playful wink back at the bemused couple. They both stared at the closed door for a moment too long.

“I’ll never get rid of that image,” Lavi moaned.

“Maybe that’s just what the doctor ordered,” Allen tried, then shuddered. “Lavi, I should have come for you in the arc. Maybe I would have made it in time-”

“Then he would have gotten exactly what he wanted and he would have just killed me,” Lavi argued. “Now, will you tell me what happened do you while you were sleeping? You were out for a long time, and it looked… bad. Worse than any of your dreams.”

Allen averted his gaze. “This time, it really was a nightmare,” he said. “I don’t remember much, but I’ll tell you what I can—and then I want you to tell me what happened on the island. All of it.”

Lavi hesitated for a moment, but he nodded. “I haven’t told anybody else the truth about how I survived, but I’ll tell you—even if you won’t like it.”

“Won’t like it? Lavi, you’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Even if it was General Cross that rescued me and then screwed my brains out until I came back down to Earth?”

Allen missed a beat. The next thing he knew, he was wearing a dark grin that his subconscious recognized as trouble. “Two gorgeous, one-eyed, redheaded, perverted exorcists in heat? What’s not to like?”

“Uh… Allen?”

“Except that I missed it. Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”

“Allen, what are you… This isn’t the time for—Hey, whose gonna sew those buttons back on!?”


	10. Chapter 10

When Allen finally let Lavi up for air, he found himself sprawled on the bed, having been hauled over by his strong little lover and pinned down for a kiss that never seemed to end—and he didn’t want it to. It had started out hot and heavy, under the influence of that dark little creature that sometimes wore Allen’s face and had a habit of surfacing at any mention of General Cross. By the time they parted for breath, though, it had become sweet, deep, and communicative, and Lavi’s tongue was tingling with memory.

He was about to reinforce the fact that they had quite a lot to talk about and amorous kisses and all that came with them were not going to clear that hurdle. However, Allen beat him to the mark.

“Can we talk later? I promise, I’ll tell you everything. I just… I want to be with you right now. I was terrified I was going to lose you and then, when I slept… I really need to feel loved.”

It was that last, vulnerable statement that won hands down. “Allen, you are!”

“I know. I just… Words and knowledge only go so far when…”

“Shhh.” Lavi reached up to press the four fingers of his open palm against Allen’s lips. He could see that something truly terrible had happened, and it was haunting Allen, body and spirit. He knew they would have that talk later, and would be able to speak all the more freely for reaffirming their love now. “If that’s what you need, then save that talk for later. Let me make love to you.”

Contrary to expectations, Allen didn’t cut right to the chase but buried his face in Lavi’s shirt instead, scrunching his fists into the material and taking a deep breath. It was like being scented by a loyal puppy.

“Thank you, Lavi, for being what I needed you to be.”

Lavi smiled, but he shook his head even though Allen couldn’t see it. “I wasn’t, though. I was what you wanted me to be—as much as I could be, but… I think I’m only now what you need me to be.”

He didn’t mean that to sound quite as dark or ironic as it did. He really just meant that he finally understood what Allen had been going through all this time. Allen jumped to the worst implication, though, and the teary eyes that peered up at Lavi were deeply apologetic.

Even so, he smiled through the sadness—but not that mask of a smile that hid his pain. This smile was a promise. “Now it’s my turn to be what you need me to be. No more being pampered and prioritized. I’m going to-”

“But I like pampering you!”

“You do?”

“Damn right, I do.”

“Well then, maybe a little pampering…”

Responding to Lavi’s guiding hands, Allen sat up, straddling the bookman at the pelvis. Lavi’s hands roamed freely, sampling Allen’s skin and brushing off any invisible scars that might linger on the surface level. He played with Allen’s nipples, traced his belly button, and savored the little dimples in slim hips with just enough chub from all those immense meals to depress at his touch. Not that Allen was at all fat. He just wasn’t quite skin and bones as Kanda would have it. He burned through his meals fast, but whenever he ate regularly, those dimples appeared for Lavi to play with.

Come to think of it, he was surprised Allen was so determined to make love having just woken up from over a day’s worth of sleep. If he figured out he was famished, he’d-

A loud rumbling caused the skin under Lavi’s hand to flutter. Grinning, the bookman looked up at Allen’s mortified expression, and decided that both talk and sex would have to wait.

As if he’d read that decision in Lavi’s eyes and was torn, Allen groped for words, and then finally planted his hands on Lavi’s chest. “Stay right there,” he ordered. “Don’t move a muscle… Wait, take off your clothes. I’ll be right back.”

Intrigued and a little nervous as to what Allen might be plotting, Lavi did as told and then lay flat on the bed, arms pillowed under his head and physique exposed for perusal. When the door-knob rattled, he hoped to god it was Allen on the other end.

He was mistaken. What entered the room was a mound of food with legs. It clumsily navigated the door and then stumbled over to a little table that could barely sustain it all.

What happened next, Lavi would never be able to file into any one category. He wasn’t sure if it was sexy, disturbing, cute, or funny, but he schooled his expression and watched it unfold.

Apparently, Allen had decided that food and sex didn’t have to be mutually exclusive and he made a show of licking, nibbling, and—more-often-than-not—munching all the foods he himself found most appealing. The bananas had potential. The candied apple made Lavi’s adam’s apple bob. The pasta was… not so hot. Fruit definitely won that round. It was when desert came around, though, that Lavi’s interest finally peaked.

All of a sudden, Allen started to strip, and then he picked up a bowl of cream and started slathering it onto his skin with circular motions that created little whirls and peaks that soon had Lavi’s mouth watering. Allen was only one ingredient, though. Apparently Lavi was the other.

The texture of the chocolate that was spread conscientiously over his naked form was a little too sticky to be pleasant, but the hands that rubbed it in until it was evenly spread were worth the discomfort. Personally, Lavi would have thought the chocolate would be a better juxtaposition for Allen’s complexion with cream suiting him quite nicely but then he realized what a kick Allen would get from licking the sweet stuff off of him, and how delicious the fluffy cream would be to suck clean. That was, if they didn’t just blend into a chocolaty, creamy whip the moment Allen put down that bowl…

What Allen had in mind was a little more localized, however. He carefully positioned himself over Lavi and then bent his knees into the mattress until their sugar-coated erections slid into contact.

“Go on,” Lavi breathed. “You know you want to.”

What a stupid thing to say. Of course he wanted to. Hell, Lavi wanted him to. In fact, if he didn’t, Lavi was going to-

Whatever Lavi was going to do was lost in a groan of approval as Allen’s hips began to gyrate, grinding their cocks together in a crushing, slippery rush. It was awkward at first, but then he angled it so that the bases of their lengths were in constant friction and he loosely held both of their tips together in his hand. Lavi was seeing stars before long.

Allen was still hungry, though, and he soon began to lap up his desert, starting at Lavi’s neck and diligently working his way down to the mess of cream, chocolate, and other substances that made for a unique feast. With Allen’s tongue, lips, and teeth cleaning up every trace, Lavi was hard as a rock again in no time. He almost buried his chocolaty hands in Allen’s hair but remembered to lick them clean before turning those pure white locks an ugly brown. They were still sticky but he didn’t care. Allen’s hair between his fingers and mouth around his cock were paramount.

It was different now, for a whole host of reasons. The kinky food play was only the beginning. On his part, there was an urgency in every pang of pleasure that had never been there before, and a craving for more and more that no orgasm could ever fill. It was frustrating, but it was also highly motivating. On Allen’s part, there was a tenderness and attention to detail that came from the heart, and also a wicked little spark of knowledge as to the feelings raging in Lavi at any given moment.

When they were both as clean as tongues and dirty sheets could allow for, Lavi squeezed Allen’s hips between his knees and pinned both pale and red wrists to the bed, staring into grey eyes that had never looked back at him in quite that way before. A dirty little smirk only enhanced the moment.

“You missed some cream,” Allen hinted, his hips squirming.

Lavi’s breath hitched. He wanted to laugh, but all that escaped his throat was a hum of longing.

Suddenly, he knew he’d been waiting for Allen to say something, or waiting for the right words to come to his mind, and just as suddenly, he knew that words just weren’t necessary. There was nothing they could say that would speak more clearly than the way they looked at each other.

Bringing that visual dialogue to an end before they got caught in a loop of silent sweet nothings, Lavi nudged his lips against Allen’s until they were kissing, and their bodies joined as naturally as their tongues.

Lavi’s hands slid up Allen’s wrists until their fingers entwined and he angled his hips, using his thighs to raise Allen’s lower body so that his knees were all the support they needed. Then, he drove hard into Allen again and again, until their mouths could no longer meet for the cries spilling from their lips.

When Lavi came, it was with a long, drawn-out shuddering wave of pulses that immobilized him for longer than he would have thought possible. His pleasure peaked and then spiked again when he realized Allen was cumming right along with him; two beautiful eyes locked on Lavi’s wide green orb, gasping for breath as his body seized up with ecstasy.

Before their strength seeped away, Allen breathed out a sigh of contentment. “That was…”

“Different,” Lavi finished.

“Beautiful,” Allen added.

“Intense,” Lavi murmured, levering himself to one side on trembling arms.

A wicked grin caught his eye. “Delicious,” Allen punctuated.

Laughing, they cuddled up and spent some time simply enjoying the company and the simplistic comfort of physical contact.

“So,” Allen murmured lazily. “You had a confession to make?”

Just when Lavi had thought that food and sex had all but knocked Allen out, he was reminded that his boyfriend had already slept his fill. That was for the best. There was a lot to be said, after all.

“Promise you won’t flip out and molest me all possessively again?” He frowned when Allen stiffened at the mention of posessiveness, tagging that word for further discussion later. “That’s not what I meant,” he retracted. “But you do have to promise me you’ll hear me out without jumping me before I can fully explain.”

“Can I jump you after?” Allen asked mildly.

“Not until you tell me what happened between you and the Noah,” Lavi insisted, though with some reluctance.

“Then let me tell that first so I can at least enjoy the redhead sandwich fantasy.”

“Fantasy!? That actually turns you on?”

“That, and the fact that you’ve got two eyes between you.”

“And here I thought your type was tall, dark, handsome, and evil.”

“He wasn’t. Evil. Not completely,” Allen said quietly, initiating a drastic shift in mood. “This was never about Noah and exorcists. It was personal,” Allen began, settling into the monotone best utilized to get through an unsavory story. “In the end, it was just about humanity…”

**Author's Note:**

> TBC... in D.Gray Man Hallow. I urge you to now re-watch the new series with this in mind as backstory. :)
> 
> (I might be prompted to write some side-fics continuing the relationships in this story if there's a demand.)


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